


to submit

by SpectacularNostalgia



Category: The Spectacular Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: Aftercare, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Escorts, Angst and Fluff and Smut, BDSM, Bad Touch, Biting, Blackmail, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Gentle Sex, Hand Jobs, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Prostitution, Rough Sex, Sex in a Car, Slow Burn, Stalking, Sugar Daddy, Underage Prostitution, Underage Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-11-13 17:52:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11190261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpectacularNostalgia/pseuds/SpectacularNostalgia
Summary: Peter was still trying to get good shots for the Daily Bugle, but ends up disappointed and desperate. Strapped for cash, a job comes driving next to him on the way home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Update - 23/06/17  
> SQUEEE!!!  
> Fan art by White-Tiger-Boi: [to submit](https://white-tiger-boi.tumblr.com/post/162130232001/based-on-to-submit)

Peter is walking home late, head low and disappointed.

There are bills to pay and groceries for the week – there's no mortgage to pay off, thankfully. He could try working at a fast food joint, but that would leave him little to no time to work on his internship at the ESU. Besides, Uncle Ben warned him often enough that working with minimum wage was another hell on its own.

He could try pickpocketing whoever Spider-Man catches, but that would make him no different from the criminals he'd been webbing up.

“So much for good shots,” Peter muttered under his breath, hand clenched tight on his bag. A chilly gust blew over him, and the teen suppressed a shudder. He looked up and caught thick clouds overcast despite night time. He could web home, but if he does it often enough, someone might follow him back. His spare change for the day could barely even cover bus fare.

Aunt May would give him money, no doubt about it, but they're in dire need of cash.

Thunder rumbles overhead and Peter tried not to sigh. If he doesn't hurry home soon, rain will catch up.

 _'I already swung home yesterday.'_ He huffed instead and ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

He rounded down a corner and began walking towards Forest Hills. This was one of his usual shortcuts, with few cars using the route. This Friday night was a little more peaceful than the usual, so Spider-Man's patrol earlier than the usual; just about two hours before his curfew.

!

Peter blinked, his Spider sense tingling. To his left was a sleek red sports car with heavily tinted windows, driving languidly to his right. Peter stopped. The car stopped next.

The window rolled down and an older man wearing an expensive suit smiled at Peter. He looked to be around on his mid-forties, with a hint of crow's nest under his eyes and salt-and-pepper hair. He peered at Peter through designer shades before taking it off and then placed it on the dashboard.

“Need a ride?” The man leered at Peter, and the teen felt his hackles rise.

“No thanks,” the brunet replied, smiling tersely. “I can walk home.”

The man raised a brow. “It's about to rain, and if you don't hurry up, you'd end _wet_.”

Peter didn't like the way the man talked. “No thanks.”

Not wanting to spend any more time with what he correctly believed to be a pervert, Peter started walking. He could always swing home if needed.

“I can pay you! How about half a grand?”

 _'What a creep,'_ Peter thought, but he already stopped in his tracks. He refused to turn back to the man. He clenched his fists.

Peter could refuse. He can walk away. He can get decent shots of Spider-Man and get the prize money from the Daily Bugle.

Except, he really needed the money. He doesn't even have a _single_ decent shot of Spider-Man. He can't get work at some minimum wage fast-food joint without sacrificing his internship, nor could Peter find anything else to help Aunt May even just a _little_ bit.

The old pervert went on. “How about a grand, then? I'll drive you home when we're done.”

 _'This is illegal,'_ Peter thought. He's sixteen, but....

“Fifteen hundred. If you don't want me to drive you home, I could do that. Just a taste, come on, kid.”

Peter tried to swallow the bile trying to climb up his throat.

He chewed on his lip, debating what to do.

He's Spider-Man. He should walk away.

Except, Peter found himself already heading for the man in the car.

“Two grand,” Peter said, trying to keep his expression blank. His knuckles were white and he tried so hard not to shake, staring at the man's hungry gaze.

“Deal. Climb in.”

 _'I'm actually doing this,'_ Peter thought in panic, his body working on auto-pilot as he made his way on the passenger's side of the car.

The door opened automatically, and the teen went in, sitting down tentatively. He pulled the door closed before trying to pull on the seatbelt, except the man batted his hand away. He began tapping his foot, fidgeting a little as the man began to drive. Then stopped.

The man hummed and brushed his hand over Peter's hair. The teen resisted the urge to slap it away. He can feel his heart beating against his chest, obnoxiously loud and fast.

 _'This is my body, I can do whatever I want with it,'_ the teen smiled, but it was obviously brittle and fake. His... client's hand was large with long fingers, with barely a hint of a callus. Then the man's hand trailed down, rubbing lazy circles at the beauty mark under his eyes. Peter can feel his cheeks flush, heat pooling in his chest. No one ever touched it, not even his _friends_. The man's touch burned where he brushed his hair, and Peter can feel something like fire racing beneath his skin.

“Cute,” the man tittered and then his hand cupped Peter's chin. He felt his breath stutter. “For reference, my name is James.”

The teen can sweat forming on his palms, and he tried to wipe it discreetly on his trousers. He wanted to pull away, but Peter was frozen in place. James's eyes were dark and hungry, and Peter felt self-conscious. He felt raw and exposed, like a nerve. It didn't help that James was licking his lips, as if Peter was a meal to be savoured. He shifted again, unsure with what to do with himself, if he should touch the man or _something_ – anything.

Peter can see that James' nose was broken at least once, and then set wrong. This close, he could see hints of dark circles under the man's eyes, nearly hidden by a light layer of make-up.

“Have you ever been kissed?” James tilted Peter's head side-to-side, inspecting his features. “You look like a virgin.”

Peter swallowed. “No.”

“Aw, too bad. It's alright, I can make your first kiss worth your while.” James leaned forward, his hand now cupping the back of Peter's neck, and closed the distance between their lips.

James's lips were soft and smooth, and Peter can smell hints of a musky cologne and sweat.

Peter clenched his fists, trying to fight against the urge to push the older and bigger man away. His brown eyes were wide and his lips were unresponsive. James's grey eyes were closed, but he made a disappointed noise when Peter didn't return the kiss right away. The teen felt James swipe a tongue over his lips, tilting his head to the side to make sure their noses weren't bumping.

After a few licks, Peter opened his mouth tentatively, and he gasped when James swiped it over his teeth. The older man tasted like mint and tobacco, with an aftertaste of orange that hit the back of Peter's throat. His brown eyes fluttered shut when the older and _experienced_ man proceeded to explore his mouth, the hand on Peter's neck started getting lower while another started tugging on his hair.

Peter cringed when he shifted and then ended up clacking their teeth together. James made an amused sound and adjusted to pull Peter deeper into the kiss.

A moan escaped the teen's lips, James's mouth was warm and his tongue was quick and very much experienced. Peter shifted again, unsure what to do with his arms. James deepened the kiss, and the teen soon found himself gasping, each coming up short and it was wet and just so _good_. His head swam in heat and _pleasure_ , with butterflies fluttering in his stomach. This close, James's musk was heady and strong, and Peter's hands began to wander. Soon enough, he found himself gripping the older man on his shoulders, pulling him closer.

Then James pulled away, huffing with light laughter, and Peter found himself blinking hazily – whimpering at the loss of contact.

“Not bad for your first time, huh?” James teased, amusement shining in his eyes. The teen flushed scarlet glancing away, but he didn't let go. “Since I paid you, you'll have to do something for me.”

Peter swallowed, mouth suddenly dry and throat itchy. His voice was small and raspy. “What is it?”

“I want you to blow me. Since it's your first time too, I'm going to teach you, okay?”

Peter nodded, breathing heavily.

James began to pet Peter's hair, pupils blown wide. “Unzip my pants.”

Peter was about to pull his hands away, but James quickly grabbed them. “I want you to touch me all the way down.”

Slowly, James put the brunet's hands around his shoulders again before letting go.

Peter's hands began to make their way down, making sure to press and memorise every shift and curve of the man's bigger and hard body.

 _'Not how I imagined my first time.'_ Peter swallowed again, stopping when his hands were now around James' hips. He licked his dry lips, unsure how should he continue.

“Don't be shy.” James cupped the teen's chin again and tilted his head up, their eyes meeting. Peter breathed heavily through his nose, eyes darting around. “It's okay, let's start with unbuttoning my pants, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter whispered.

His right hand traced the curve of the older man's waist, and then paused at the button. Slowly, he popped the button. The brunet swallowed again and made a noise in surprise when James swiped his thumb over his lower lip before pressing it inside. “James, I-”

“Go on.”

Peter trembled, his toes curling inside his shoes, and with almost painful slowness, pulled the zip down. With both hands, the teen parted the cloth and felt panic rise.

James wasn't wearing anything under his trousers; the man was half-hard already, pre-cum leaking at the tip. His balls were red and a little swollen, nestled under thick curls of salt-and-pepper hair.

“Hold it – gently. Oh – that's a good boy.” James pulled his hand away from Peter's mouth and leaned away, pushing his hips up.

Peter tried not to clench both of his hands, knowing that it would be painful for James if he held on too tight. He had one hand on the older man's manhood, and the other on his balls.

“Now stroke – how you jerk off should be fine.”

The teen knew his face burned red, heat coiling in his gut and his own dick now realising the situation he was in now. His trousers felt uncomfortable and tight, his manhood straining under his boxers.

Gently, he began to stroke the older man, can feel slight bumps under his palm. James made an approving sound, and Peter felt a little confident that he was doing something right. Braver, he started to increase his pace, making sure to swipe his thumb over the head while his other tugged and caressed James' two. The tip began to swell, turning hard at Peter's ministrations. James was starting to pant, sweat glistening on his forehead, cheeks flushed and eyes dark.

Then James removed his hand from Peter's mouth and then grabbed him on the back of his head.

“I'm going to pull you down, let go and then open your mouth wide and take my cock up your mouth.” Peter felt a jolt run down his spine, realising belatedly that this was actually happening.

With surprising strength, James pulled Peter's head down and the boy yelped in panic, hands flying and holding on the driving wheel and car seat. James's grip on Peter's hair loosened, and Peter looked up. He was shaking and panting, eyes wide and terrified, lips slightly parted and red.

“Okay, too fast. Let's do it slow then.” The teen's nails curled before he nodded.

With deliberate slowness, Peter shifted and leaned forward, mindful of the gear stick between them. Brown eyes took in the older man's sight, hair mussed and skin bright with sweat. As he neared the other man, he can see it upright and proud, the veins bulging and thick, the head throbbing as Peter descended.

The brunet felt a little awkward, the hand brake pressing almost painfully against his torso. Peter peered up through brown lashes, meeting James's encouraging expression. Peter looked back down, the older man's erection a scant few centimetres away.

This close, he could see clear fluid dripping down from the uncut head, the strong smell of musk meeting Peter's nose. Both of the brunet's hands were on James's package, and Peter just did what he usually does when he jerks off alone in the bathroom. He tugged and rolled them, gently cupping and stoking the testicles. James moaned loudly at the contact, hips pushing up, the tip of his erection now touching Peter's lower lip.

Feeling courageous, Peter opened his mouth and engulfed the engorged length. The staff was halfway inside, lying atop Peter's tongue.

“Don't – no teeth....” James panted, hand tightening at the back of Peter's head. “Just – suck like it's candy.”

Peter huffed out a breath, and the older man's hips jolted up with a loud groan. Tears sprung in Peter's eyes, whimpering at the sudden movement – almost gagging when James hit the back of his throat. The man made a strangled sound when the boy's hands tightened against his package. Peter let go and opted to hold on to the man's hips instead.

Brown eyes flickered up, apologetic. James wasn't looking down, head thrown back with his mouth wide open.

Hesitantly, Peter swirled his tongue over the member, James' cock sliding in and out of his mouth in a long and uneven pace.

“Faster – and candy, remember – oh – oh! Good boy.”

James set the pace – fast and slick and hot. Peter's head bobbed up and down, while the older man's hips thrust in and out of his luscious mouth, face-fucking the brunet. Heady waves of pleasure rolled off James, and Peter can feel his own hardness pressing against his jeans. He whimpered and mewled as he proceeded to suck the man, gripping his waist tight, belatedly realising that it would bruise once all of this would be over.

With a sudden jolt, James threw his head back in a silent scream, sticky heat flooding Peter's mouth. The teen expected the man to taste bitter and disgusting, but was surprised at the sweet with a slight hint of a tang. The man's cum dripped down Peter's chin; he was about to pull away, but James's grip on his hair kept him in place.

“If you pull out - “ the man panted, out of breath and elated. “You'll ruin your clothes. Close your mouth.”

James took another shuddering breath, melting almost boneless on the driver seat; his dick slipping out of Peter's mouth, limp and spent. Peter's mouth closed, but James's cum was just so sweet and he couldn't help himself.

He swallowed.

James blinked at Peter in surprise, and then laughed and Peter could almost believe it sounded... fond.

“You've been a good boy.” James pulled Peter up and laid him flush against his body, engulfing the smaller male in a contented embrace. “What's your name?”

Peter paused, unsure if he should give it. In a panic, he should have gotten the money first before agreeing to anything. His body tensed and he began to scramble to push the older man off.

“Shh, shh. It's okay, I'll pay you. Don't worry about it.” James glanced at the glove compartment. “Just give me a second....”

Peter was quick to pull away, shifting his body as far as possible from James, thoughts buzzing in and out of focus, breaths coming in short gasps. Peter could barely focus in front of him, panic seizing every inch of his body, leaving him shivering with wide eyes.

Slowly, as if pacifying a spooked dog, James reached over Peter and opened the glove compartment. Bundled bills greeted Peter's eyes, and the older man grabbed a stack before closing it shut.

“Here, three grand.”

Peter felt his world go silent.

“What?”

James gave the brunet a fond look. “I don't always get virgins. That's a little something extra for the experience.”

Then the man started to pat his pockets, made a satisfied noise, and then pulled out a pen and paper. “Here's my number. If you want another go, you can call or text me. Once you text me, I might give you a call or text if I'm feeling like it.”

“I – okay. Okay, thank you, James.” Gently, James pushed the stack of hundred-dollar bills and the paper to Peter's hands. Slowly, he started counting his earnings before storing it inside his bag. Peter bit his lip, and let out a light breath. “My name is Peter.”

James eyes were soft and reached out. Lightly, he grasped Peter's locks, gently brushing the teen's hair. Peter relaxed at the contact, feeling warmth suffuse his chest. The older man's hand was on Peter's knee, thumb circling lazy circles.

Heat suffused Peter's cheeks, a light whimper escaping his lips. James' smile turned wider, the hand on Peter's knee began making its way up, caressing Peter's inner thigh in firm strokes. The brunet's eyes fluttered shut, long lashes dusting his cheeks as a moan escaped his lips.

Peter cried out when James palmed his groin, heat shooting up Peter's spine. Instinctively, Peter spread his legs open and James took that as a cue to pull his zip down.

His hand easily slipped inside Peter's boxers, his long fingers rubbing up and down Peter's shift in steady and firm strokes. Peter pushed his hips up, meeting James's grip. The teen held on to the door and the edge of his seat while the older man pumped his shaft in a merciless pace. Peter moaned and mewled as he thrust into James's big hand, suddenly aware that the older man easily engulfed his length in a hot pace.

Soon enough, Peter shot his own load with a loud cry, his cum staining his underclothes. The fabric felt heavy and sticky against his skin, and James's big hand and long fingers slipped deftly out.

“Do you want me to drop me off your house?” James asked, his other hand caressing the mark under Peter's eye.

Hazily, Peter managed to rattle off his address. He was still seeing stars, a pleasant haze already settling over his spent body. The drive ended soon enough, and James had to shake Peter awake when they arrived at the Parker residence in Forest Hills.

“What time is it?” Peter asked, voice thick and heavy with sleep.

“Nine thirty.”

Peter shot up, eyes wide and almost terrified, he was about to rush outside the car except James pulled him back.

“You might want to zip your pants.” James was holding his hand, tracing uneven patterns on Peter's knuckles.

Peter blushed furiously, settling back to his seat, trying to make sure that he looked presentable before heading inside. It took ten minutes before Peter decided that he looked like he wasn't just fucked in the face.

He glanced back at James who was looking at him with the same warmth and affection, and the teen felt his heart stutter. Wasn't this... just a fuck? His face burned, wondering what could he have possibly done to garner this _much?_

“Go on. I'm sure your parents must be worried about you.”

“Okay,” Peter shifted in his seat. He sighed, and then turned back to James. Slowly, he pulled the man closer, eyes fluttering shut, and closed the distance between their lips.

The older man made a keening noise, but he didn't open his mouth. The contact was warm, brief, and chaste. After half a minute, Peter pulled away, eyes bright and cheeks aflame. He could feel his heart pound against his chest, butterflies fluttering inside his stomach.

“Thank you so much,” Peter murmured, grasping his messenger bag's strap. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

James grinned, let go, and then ruffled Peter's hair. “Any time.”

 

Peter smiled, and then blinked when the door opened on its own. He took a quick peek behind him and saw one of James's long fingers on a button on the wheel. The teen gave him a grateful glance before stepping out.

“Call me,” James said with a wave, and then drove off. Peter watched the expensive car disappear into a corner before he spun on his heel and march home.

All the lights were on, and Aunt May was knitting a scarf.

“Hi Aunt May,” Peter greeted, suddenly aware that his lips might still be swollen and that his clothes were sticky with sweat and other fluids.

“Peter! It was supposed to rain, it's a good thing you got home early.” Aunt May looked up, relief flooding her eyes. The teen felt a swell of guilt at the pit of his stomach, a confession ready to stumble out of his lips, but managed to bite his tongue before a word can spill out. “Are you okay? You look a little red....”

“Oh, it's just the cold,” Peter lied, another secret to add to his growing pile. “Just some rest and I'd be right as rain.”

Aunt May chuckled at his joke. She rose up to give Peter a hug, except Peter held his hands out to stop her. “Aunt May! If it's a bug, I don't want you to catch it. Tomorrow?”

She looked a little sad at that, but nodded in understanding. “I'll be checking up on you, alright? I'd call school tomorrow if you need to rest more.”

Peter wanted to smile, but he knew it might come as brittle or obviously fake. “Thanks. Going to bed now.”

The brunet was a little too quick to rush to his room, nearly slamming the door shut.

Alone, Peter's back hit the door, and then he sunk down.

“Did I just –“ Peter touched his lips, realisation crashing. He just sold his body to a man thrice his age for money. He just gave a forty-year old man a blow job, and got a hand job and three hundred grand in return. The world spun and tilted on its axis, leaving Peter feeling disoriented.

He had no idea how long he sat there, but Peter knew he had to get back to bed at some point.

The teen dragged himself over, climbing on top with his face pressed on the pillow. Peter's breath hitched, an unbidden image of James fucking him into the mattress. He shook his head and turned to his side to curl into himself, the bag's strap almost choking him. It took him ten minutes to get it off and then threw it into a corner. The bag landed with a heavy thud, falling to the side with the wad of cash spilling out – glaring at Peter almost accusingly.

Peter scowled at it and then turned to the other side.

His window was open and cold air blew in with thunder still rumbling outside, but no rain. A shudder ran down the boy's back, and Peter reluctantly toed his shoes off. He shifted a little to get the blanket over him before lying down on his back, staring up the ceiling.

There was still a stain close to the fluorescent light from the time the roof was leaking before Uncle Ben fixed the hole.

 _'I can get it painted,'_ Peter realised, since he now had enough money to pay off bills and maybe have one of the leaking pipes repaired. Except, how was he going to explain to Aunt May how he got the money?

“ _Aunt May, I got three grand, but I had to let a forty-year dirty old man have his wicked way with my mouth. So uh... Please don't sue him?”_

The brunet snorted, like that will go over well.

Food for thought, Peter might figure something out by morning.

On the upside, he wouldn't have to send crappy pictures of Spider-Man to the Bugle.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Peter groaned awake, blindly reaching for his alarm clock to shut it off. Groggily, the brunet kicked his blanket off before sitting down while he tried to rub the sleep off his eyes.

Last night was a complete haze – Peter remembered walking home early, but was a little confused that he ended up almost late home.

 _'Was walking home, it was about to rain and – oh.'_ Memories come crashing back – the car ride, James, _sex_.

Peter staggered, making his way to the bathroom feeling nauseous.

A sharp tang of pain stabbed Peter in the head when he flicked the light switch on. He had to lean on the door frame just to keep upright, but gravity had him sinking down on his knees. He had to make progress, Peter knew, and it was with great reluctance that the teen began to drag himself towards the ceramic seat.

The tiles were cold despite the thick layer of clothing, and the smell of citrus and bleach was thick in the air. The sour taste of bile coated the back of Peter's throat, and he almost didn't make it to the toilet when he began to puke. Stomach acid and come filled the ceramic, and when there's nothing else left, the teen dry heaved instead.

The hero's eyes burned with tears, his throat raw and bitter-sour. Disgust filled Peter, crinkling his nose at the smell of sick. Still, he clutched on the toilet, limbs heavy with exhaustion. His headed pounded with a dull ache, with no sign of fading.

 _'Why am I so drained?'_ Peter suppressed a sniffle. He was a hero, damn it; if he could make it a whole week getting shot and punched, he should be able to make through a night of giving a dirty old man head. He tried to steel his nerves, hoping to get up and wash his mouth to get ready to get to school.

Peter noted that his clothes were sticky and could feel a light layer of grit on his skin. The cold of the floor seeped through yesterday's attire, and Peter was finding it hard to gather enough motivation to stand up.

“Peter? Are you okay? Breakfast is ready!” Peter's eyes bugged out and he scrambled to flush the toilet, washing away yesterday's activities.

His whole body felt like lead and concrete was dragging him down, and Peter almost collapsed on the sink in an attempt to wash his face. He swallowed despite the horrible taste when he saw his reflection.

He looked horrible, sweat plastered his hair in sticky clumps, and there was a slight tremble to his whole frame. There were dark and exhausted circles under his eyes too, and the teen could see he was paler than the usual. That just made the bags under his eyes severe than they actually were, and there was a light bruise already forming on his lips. Shouldn't his healing factor already took care of it?

“Peter!” The boy almost jumped, didn't even notice his aunt entering his room and was now fussing over him. She placed a hand over his forehead, and the boy tried to push her away gently. “I don't feel a fever, but I don't feel comfortable sending you to school in this condition.”

Peter smiled weakly. “I'm okay, it was just a stomach bug. I just need some aspirin – and I could go to the nurse if I'm not feeling so hot.”

The older woman pursed her lips, brows furrowed. “Alright, and make sure to call and get home _right after_ school. I can call Doctor Connors to let him know.”

Peter nodded. “Okay, thanks Aunt May.”

She gave Peter a quick peck on the forehead, and then made her way out.

With her gone, Peter turned back to his reflection and frowned at it. “You look like hell.”

The mirror gave him a wry smile, and Peter rubbed his forehead in attempt to alleviate the ache. He let out a deep breath and pushed himself off from the sink. The brunet closed the door and began to strip out of yesterday's clothes.

Peter scowled when he picked up his boxers and then put it on the sink. He turned the cold tap on and began to scrub the stain away. It took him about ten minutes before Peter was absolutely sure there was no trace of whatever... James did to him left.

Then the teen stepped into the shower.

He had a hand on the knob, unsure if he should turn up the heat or not. They were already strapped for cash, and Peter doesn't want to add unnecessary items on their bill.

Except, he still has three grand on his bag.

The teen blinked at the realisation, elated that he had done _something_ , at least – to help. He wasn't proud with what he did, but money was a big deal.

Swallowing his hesitation, Peter turned the shower on and let nearly scalding water cascade down his back.

The brunet bit back a moan at the sensation of water falling down his shoulders. He raised his head up with his eyes closed, enjoying the warm spray. He out in a generous amount of shampoo on one hand and began to wash his hair.

Peter carded his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp lightly. Unbidden, the sensation of James's hands on his hair came to mind. The teen began rinsing it abruptly. A shudder ran down his back, and he resisted the urge to dig his nails on his scalp, knew that it would hurt.

Peter's fingers twitched, and his limbs felt like concrete was pulling it down while he reached for the soap. He made quick work of scrubbing his body clean, except Peter still felt _filthy_. He had to scrub himself again, but he could still feel grit that wouldn't come off and no matter how much he scrubbed, it just won't get _off_.

Peter gritted his teeth, the water stinging his skin. Brown eyes glanced down, blinking in slight confusion at the angry red lines marring pale skin. Usually, it should have healed at _this_ point, but... Peter shook his head and rinsed the soap off. He still has school to worry about.

The teen grabbed a towel from the linen closet next to the bathroom mirror and tied it around his waist before stepping outside to his room. He grabbed a white long-sleeved shirt, a pair of boxers, and baggy cargo trousers.

Peter dressed in record time, just ran his hand through his hair to make sure it had some semblance of an order, before picking up his bag. The headache from earlier already alleviating a little bit.

The money stared at Peter accusingly, and he had to wonder if his aunt saw the contents. He also had to wonder if James saw the hint of the Spider-Man costume trapped between school books and notepads.

 _'Aunt May needs this._ I _need this,'_ Peter reasoned, picking the hundred dollar bills one by one, counting them just to be sure.

It was more than enough for the whole month. Still, it doesn't feel right to splurge just because Peter managed to get extra cash. He took a glance at his laptop lying innocently on his dresser – well, if something existed, the internet would have something about it.

What happened last night felt surreal to Peter, and he had a sinking feeling that it was too good to be true. It was a train wreck from start to end, with the teen indulging on whatever impulse that sparked in his head.

He glanced at the contents of his bag again.

On one hand, trying to get decent shots of Spider-Man was a nightmare on its own – with little guarantee to get something newspaper worthy. However, _working_ with James would guarantee Peter money should he ever contact the other man.

It wasn't _that_ bad, per se. The man was rather gentle, if a little bit touchy. By all technicalities, he forced Peter into giving head, but Peter _is_ Spider-Man. The teen could have easily pushed the man off with no trouble. James was big and looked like he worked out on his free time (with the possibility of taking steroids, even), but Peter has the proportionate strength of a spider. Beating the older man off should be a piece of cake.

“Peter? It's getting late!” Aunt May's voice floated from downstairs, shaking Peter off from his reverie. He stuffed half of his earnings under his mattress before padding downstairs.

“How are you feeling?” May went over to fuss over Peter again, checking if there were any changes to the boy's temperature.

“A little better, but hungry,” the brunet grinned easily. Aunt May hummed in reply and had her ward sit down for breakfast. There was a bowl of oatmeal along with chunks of fresh fruit and nuts, the milk carton was right next, and a steaming cup of hot cocoa atop the table. “Isn't chocolate for breakfast unhealthy?”

May Parker chortled a light laugh, shaking her head. “There's never an unhealthy time for chocolate.” Then she headed over to the laundry room and left Peter alone.

Grateful and feeling all the more fond for his aunt, Peter ate his breakfast with gusto. Peter asked for seconds, feeling a little less guilty since he can finally contribute. The teen washed his dishes after finishing his meal.

The bills were just right behind the fruit bowl, and Peter sifted through to grab whichever was due. All of them needed to be paid immediately, and if their electric bill wouldn't be paid by the next week, they'd be cut off. To his relief, the brunet had enough cash to cover their utility.

 _'For Aunt May,'_ Peter thought with determination, stuffing the envelopes inside his bag. He could pay them before he could patrol after school. He'd even have enough for groceries, too. _'I should make a budget plan or something.'_

“Bye Aunt May! Heading over to the bus!”

“Have a great day, sweetie! Don't forget to take the ibuprofen and your lunch!”

“Okay!”

Peter froze.

He was right in front of the school gates. He could go inside any time. He'd be late if he doesn't take a step inside. It's not like he did anything wrong. Except, maybe, got paid by a man thrice his age to give oral. It was a thing, right? Teenagers were supposed to like talking about and doing sex, right? Peter's a teenager. It's completely understandable he did something because he was horny.

Right?

Except his bag felt heavier than the usual, the knowledge of having a fifteen hundred dollars for servicing a forty-year old man burned at the back of his head. The age of consent in New York was seventeen years old. Peter was sixteen years old, but he'd be seventeen within the year. That counted, right?

Right?

Peter felt his spider sense tingle, and he took a step to the left – just about missing Flash pulling him into a the usual non-fatal choke-hold.

Peter froze again.

He could feel hundreds of eyes on him, and he could feel his lips burn where James kissed him. What if they saw the scratches on his back and thought it's from something else? What if they thought he scrubbed himself clean because he did something he wasn't supposed to? Peter knew that people who just had sex get a certain glow about them, or that they have this smell... If someone gets close enough, would they catch it?

No, it shouldn't be possible. No one would believe that Puny Peter Parker could ever get laid, even if he paid someone to do it.... Instead, someone paid Peter to do it.

Christ, his head just wasn't up to it.

Which was definitely why he ended up with Flash grabbing him by the scruff of his collar, grabbing his bag with the other hand.

“Hey Puny Parker, what'd you got for lunch?”

“Hey – Flash!” Peter panicked. If Flash found the money on his bag, he'd be done for. He'd ask questions, people would ask questions, and Peter would _lose_ the money. “Give it back!”

The taller boy laughed obnoxiously and held it away from the shorter boy, stepping further and further away from the smaller teen's reach.

Perhaps it was the lingering headache, or the fact that all their bills and the money to pay them was on his bag, or his spider sense _screaming_ at him to do _something;_ because one moment Peter was trying to get his messenger bag back, and the next thing he knew was that Flash was on the ground and he was already clutching his possessions in a vice grip.

Peter can feel his heart thundering against his chest, obnoxiously loud and painful. He didn't realise he was panting until he thought that he needed to take a deep breath. Worse were the stares burning into him along with the accusing whispers in the air. Flash's expression was completely dumbfounded, with a hand on a reddening hand mark on his cheek. He as looking at Peter intensely, and Peter wanted nothing more than to hide inside his locker for the rest of the day.

Was it too late to call in sick?

“Peter!” Gwen's voice cut through the murmuring, and Peter found himself face-to-face with her. The blonde fussed over the teen, checking if he was hurt, but that can't be right because Peter _slapped_ Flash Thompson in the face strong enough to have him falling on his rear. “Did he hurt you?”

Peter shook his head, his throat felt dry and his tongue felt too thick inside his mouth. Gwen tried to pry the bag off his hands, but Peter clutched it closer in near-blind terror.

“Are you okay?” The brunet turned to the side and it was Harry with a concerned expression staring at his white-knuckled grip.

Flash's jock friends were already trying to help him up, and Peter realised with belated terror that was done for. He _wasn't_ supposed to be able to beat up Flash and his jock friends. People would ask questions he doesn't have answers for, and Peter just wanted to go home before school even _began_.

It was a little funny though, Peter thought, before the school staff could even check the growing commotion – the bell rang.

Reluctantly, the students of Midtown High began to make their way inside the building. Peter can hear snippets of what just happened, and it just made him feel worse. He wasn't supposed to hurt anyone, since Peter knew he was strong enough to knock a head off clean if he ever wanted to.

He spent the day ignoring the stares and whispers that followed. Harry and Gwen kept shooting him worried glances, and Peter tried to give them the most reassuring expression possible – which just made them stare at him in disbelief. Then there was a strange... awareness, of Flash's blue eyes burning behind his back. Whenever Peter felt that he was getting enough attention and then turn to check if Flash was looking at him, the other boy was already looking away.

It was frustrating.

The last subject for the day was Biology, and Peter felt rather accomplished with his A+ from yesterday's test.

Then the next thing Peter knew, he had to tutor Liz Allen.

Well, it didn't seem so bad. Except for the part that he may have slapped her maybe-boyfriend in public.

Joy.

* * *

 

Liz wasn't cooperating, tapping wildly at her smartphone – texting Flash. She kept shooting him bored glances, and Peter tried to explain the material as much as possible.

“See, the chapter's really about how biological systems interact,” Peter explained with genuine cheer. Science had always have been his strongest point, and sharing and expanding that knowledge made him feel more than the tiny insignificant spark of life that he was in the vast expanse of the universe.

“Ugh,” Liz snorted in bored disgust. “Anything in there about how biological systems are boring?”

Peter winced, but gave her a somewhat sheepish smile. “Yeah, Dullsville, right? Who wants to waste their time on a textbook?”

“What a coincidence!” Liz piped in mock surprise. “Flash just texted me those exact words! About you, Petey.”

Peter frowned, trying to suppress a frustrated sigh. “Maybe if you stopped texting Flash for just a minute –“

“Good idea.” Liz put the phone next to her ear. “I'll call him instead.”

Peter's spider sense decided to give him a little nudge, and he ended up glancing around the vicinity trying to find what's wrong.

The teen almost shot up, disbelieving. James. The old man checked their surroundings and it looked like he was about to approach Peter. The brunet gave the older man a panicked look, and it looked like he managed to convey his message because James backed off. Instead, he made a motion for Peter to follow.

Liz's attention was still on her phone, and Peter glanced back behind her. Well, it looked like she was having fun talking with Flash, and it was starting to feel like that this tutoring session was nothing more than a waste of time.

First off, he might need to clear a few things with James. He wasn't exactly planning any repeat sessions with the older man because the Parkers were pretty much safe for the next two months, so there was no need for spending quality time with the forty-year old. Peter thought that he should at least wait for another month or two when funds were getting low and contact the man.

Belatedly, he wondered if James _was_ stalking him. A shudder ran down his spine.

Before he could stand up, a shady-looking man passed by, hunched and rushing off – looking very _guilty_ to Spider-Man.

“Oh _yeah_ , I'll be fluent in geek.”

Well, James already disappeared into the crowd, and it was obvious to the teen that Spider-Man was needed. He had no second thoughts about what to do next.

“Look, this tutoring thing is something you need, not me.” Peter stood up and put the bag around his shoulder. It was considerably lighter now that he managed to pay the bills before agreeing to meet up with Liz. Drat, and he was planning to get groceries too. “So when you're ready to learn, lemme know.”

Then he walked away.

James wasn't in sight, and Peter counted his lucky stars to find somewhere secluded to change. The brunet rushed off into a dark street corner, and then began to strip off his clothes, before putting on his mask and then webbing away.

* * *

 

That... was a disaster.

At some point, Peter decided to give the Bugle thing a try, because – _why not?_ Money doesn't grow on trees, and if giving James another hour or two would have Peter panicking like some skittish mouse then _no_. Then Spider-Man's arse nearly got handed to him, and _then_ it was his curfew and Peter had to call Aunt May to let her know he'd be a little late.

James was gone by the time Peter changed and tried to check on the older man, and worse were the bruises beginning to form on his back.

That wasn't counting the day after.

First was a package for Peter through mail by one _James Drake_ (who was the CEO of this big advertising firm, the teen double checked online just to be sure because holy fucking tits), then there were the horrible Spider-Man pics he had to delete from his camera, and to top it all off – he attacked _Max Dillon_.

He didn't even recognise the guy.

The brunet spent most of the day day in a depressed slump, feeling twice as shitty. Still, he could still try tutoring Liz and visit Max after his shift at the ESU lab.

It was lunch time when Peter found himself walking towards her locker, hoping that she'd be there.

Then life threw a curve ball because, _why not?_

“Flash?” Peter eyed the bully warily, who had an intense scowl on his face. The blond was talking to Liz before the smaller boy caught his attention. Flash's expression quickly morphed into a big shit-eating grin.

Peter narrowed his eyes. He turned to Liz briefly, but he kept his gaze focused on the bigger boy.

“Liz, look – I feel bad for ditching you last night. So,” Peter paused, turned to Liz with a light smile. “If you still want help, we could meet after school at the ESU lab. It's up to you.”

Flash coughed loudly, and Peter's spider sense didn't even register when the bigger boy's muscular arm draped itself across his shoulders. A dull throb of pain sparked over his bruises, and Peter hissed at the sudden contact.

Scowling, he ducked out of Flash's touch and glared at him. Before Peter can open his mouth, Flash was giving him the same intense stare. Peter didn't often found himself tongue-tied whenever he dealt with Flash, but today happened to be a rare occasion.

It wasn't... hungry. Not like James' stare.

No, it was nothing like that.

It was like in Flash's eyes, Peter was probably one of those big jigsaw puzzles and the blond can't find one of the pieces. It wasn't much a stretch for Peter to imagine it, since that was one of his best-visited memories of middle school.

Then Flash gave Peter a fierce and mean scowl, and then draped hi arm across Liz's shoulders. “Come on, Puny Parker's gonna infect us with his nerd.”

The brunet rolled his eyes and made his way to his next class. Which was Lit and the topic for the day was Greek Mythology.

Peter already had a notebook dedicated to budget opened atop his desk, listing out how much money he had left and possible expenditures for the following month. He was going to draw out the money he got as much as possible, and make it last.

Gwen, thankfully, made sure to nudge Peter whenever the teacher called on the boy. It was just twice, and Gwen would scribble the answer on her notebook to help. Last subject for that day was AP calculus, and the brunet was still feeling horrible for attacking Max.

There was still the package from James, tutoring Liz at ESU, and Flash being... well, Flash.

They had football practise, so Peter and Gwen managed to get to ESU in relative peace. It rained, but both had the foresight to bring an umbrella.

Gwen was quick to rush inside, already sharing ideas on what they could do to help Max. Peter kept quiet, still mulling over his last interaction with the electrician. It didn't sit right with Peter that he was too bullheaded to realise he hurt a friend. Worse was that Max could die if ever they did something wrong trying to get him back to normal.

Eddie's explanation just made Peter's imagination run wild.

“Petey?” Liz Allen was already inside, umbrella still open and dripping everywhere.

Eddie and Peter turned to her, Peter a little slack-jawed and Eddie with a brow quirked up.

“Petey?”

Liz shuffled nervously. “Um, Flash dropped me off. He already left, though. I'm here for the tutoring thing.”

Dr. Connors coughed, glad that there was someone expressing interest in learning. The scientist began to make his way to his private study. “Alright, I'll leave the four of you to it.”

Alarmed, Peter made his way to Connors, working his bottom lip between his teeth. Liz was already talking with Flash and Gwen when the brunet glanced back nervously. “Maybe this isn't such a good time.”

Connors made a placating gesture, sounding a little cheerful. “I know, go on. I need to check some results in my office anyway.”

Then the man left the four teens alone, entered and shut the door to his office shut, and made sure to drop the blinds.

Peter stared at the door for a good minute before deciding to make his way to his friends and Liz. Eddie was smiling politely while Gwen looked very indifferent.

“So, Eddie... you quarter backing for ESU?”

“Nah, I hung my jersey back in Midtown. I'm strictly a nerd now.”

“We're all nerds here, you can be too.” Peter approached the three, he already had the safety gloves on and a hook in one hand.

Liz rolled her eyes in disdain. “Wonderful.”

Peter frowned. “I'm serious Liz.” The brunet put an arm on the small of her back and started guiding her towards the stairs to the tank. “You can get this stuff.”

“You just need to look at it a new way.” Peter gently grabbed an eel, ready to pull it up.

“Petey!”

The brunet let out a small hiss, turning to Liz in confusion. She had a hand over his shoulder, right where a still healing bruise was. She quickly pulled away with an apologetic expression, and Peter had to shake his head at the thought that Flash put her up to it.

“Bro, you okay?” Eddie called out, a frown tugging at his lips.

Peter gave his long time friend a reassuring glance. “Yeah, just tripped at home. I'm fine.”

“Did Flash...?” Liz trailed off, looking like she wants to reach back at Peter, but decided against it instead.

“Nah, this was from yesterday night. The light was off and I tripped in the dark.”

Then the lights winked out of existence.

* * *

 

Peter frowned at his reflection.

It looked like he got struck by lightning – intricate patterns of root-like veins stood starkly against his pale skin, and then there were the bruises around his shoulders and mid-back. By the end of the week, it should be gone, but Peter would have to deal with it by the mean time.

The rain ruined his clothes the night before, he deleted all the pictures since none looked good _at all_ , and Peter would have to grab his old clothes to wear. Except, it would just be regressing back to his nerdier days.

The package from James was sitting innocently above his bed.

It was a large white box with a red ribbon wrapped around it. It wasn't pinging on the hero's spider sense, so it should be safe. The card said it was clothing, and Peter was deliberating between accepting the gift or giving it back.

On one hand, Peter was definitely not a charity case, but on the other....

_You can return it, if you'd like. Or we could work out a job for you instead._

  * _James Drake_

It stared accusingly at Peter, seemingly holding all the secrets to the universe. When the teen reached out to touch the ribbon, he had to shake out a sudden flash of James carding his hand through his hair. He could still feel phantom impressions of the large hand brushing through his locks, barely calloused with long fingers.




Slowly, as if the box will suddenly explode, Peter pulled the ribbon off and removed the lid gingerly.

Inside were dress shoes sitting next to a pair of Grenson boots, both atop expensive-looking dress shirts piled above professional-looking slacks. All of the shirts were long-sleeved, and looked very stylish.

There was a piece of paper inside, along with James's number and a short message.

_Just in case you lost the other one._

The teen swallowed and took out the shoes first before removing the clothes one by one.

Underneath the formal clothes were casual button-ups in dark colours, at least two pairs of skinny and ripped jeans, and about five pairs of dark socks. There was even a pair of designer glasses without prescription inside a box stuffed in the corner.

They were all expensive designer clothing, and Peter knew even if the price tags were already removed.

The teen glanced at his closet, already missing his regular outfit. All of them were in the wash, since Aunt May only does the laundry about twice a week at most.

Peter could go to school and maybe get Flash to stuff him inside a locker again, or he could go to school not looking like he'd best be a wet mouse.

Well... it was rude to return to opened gifts. It wasn't like James wanted Peter to suck him off again anyway, Peter could keep the clothes and life would go on. And Peter had no idea where to return these even, not unless he wanted to give the older man a call to hook up. Which was currently a big no.

Feeling a lot less reluctant, Peter grabbed one of the casual button-ups (light blue) and a pair of jeans.

The shirt fit just fine (he made sure not to tuck it in), even with the costume underneath. It wasn't tailored to Peter's body since it was wide around his middle, but was snug (not uncomfortable) around the teen's shoulders. The jeans were a little tapered around the calves, but were otherwise fine. The boots had an inch of free space for Peter's toes, even with the socks.

After getting dressed, Peter headed off into the bathroom to check his reflection.

Very smart casual.

Peter fidgeted a little, could barely recognise himself in the mirror. He looked thinner, the clothing accentuating his slim figure instead of hiding it under the usual baggy attire. It wasn't that bad.

The glasses seemed unnecessary, but it just seemed right. The frame was thin and light in colour, and it fit perfectly.

That had alarm bells ringing in Peter's head. Just how did James know his size – not unless the man somehow got inside his room and checked his clothing. Which had Peter double-checking his room just to check if there were any signs of entry. Surprisingly enough, nothing seemed to be out of place, and everything was just where Peter left them. The other possible explanation was that James managed to guess his size correctly from the hugs in the car alone. That seemed more logical and Peter doubted that a forty-year old man getting white hair would have the energy to climb up his house and enter through the window – or have Aunt May let them in even.

Feeling a lot more confident, Peter turned his thoughts to what to do next.

James did offer a job.... In which Peter had no illusions what the job _was_ supposed to be. It did alleviate the feeling of being a charity case, if Peter was going to be honest with himself. Besides, it wasn't like anyone else was getting hurt. Peter was a reluctantly consenting party, he doesn't even need to send what most likely humiliating pictures of Electro or Spider-Man getting pummelled either. Although, Peter would still like to try his hand at getting Spidey pics.

It was just in case James decided that he wasn't virgin enough any more. Besides, it's not like Peter can't fight back. He can hand James's arse anytime.

Satisfied, the teen made his way downstairs for breakfast, feeling a lot more confident than the usual.

The bills were paid, they have groceries good for two weeks, and Peter got new clothes. Aunt May already left breakfast on the table, pancakes with strawberries. There was a paper bag with his lunch, and the brunet savoured every bite.

Life was kind of looking up.

Which had Peter instantly suspicious, because good things just didn't last with him.

At first Peter was promptly ignored when he stepped through the school gates, which was a relief. Everything was going fine, Peter was about to give Harry and Gwen a wave, and then Liz found him.

She made a high-pitched sound that had the teen wincing, and was promptly introduced to a running tackle of a hug.

“These are Prada– Peter! How did you get these?” Liz began to inspect his clothing over, and Peter could barely stammer out an answer that these were gifts.

“Yeah, how'd you get these?” The brunet froze when he heard Flash. The other boy began poking him in the back, which stung, and Peter slapped the offending hand away. The smaller teen frowned at the bigger.

“None of your business.” Still, Peter blushed when Sally began inspecting him over next.

“Here I thought you'd be nerd squad forever. Those are very fashionable.” The cheerleader's eyes flickered over to Gwen, a contemplative expression on her face. “Now, that I'd pay to see.”

Randy Robertson wolf-whistled. “Babe, you have the best ideas.”

Gwen was giving Peter concerned glances, while Harry looked like he was about to pull her off to their first class. Peter was about to slip away when the big blond brute grabbed him by the scruff.

“Hey!” Flash was tugging the collar down, and Peter had to twist to keep the older boy from seeing the Spider-Man costume beneath. The brunet was about to give the bigger boy a glare, but like yesterday – Flash was staring at him rather intensely. “Flash?”

The boy snorted and slung an arm around Liz. “Come on Liz, we might catch Puny Parker's nerd. You can't hide the nerd under designer brand!”

Peter scowled at the jock-cheerleader clique's retreating backs, Liz did give him a quick encouraging smile before hugging Flash's arm as they headed to their first period.

The brunet spun on his heel and then made his way over to Gwen and Harry, hair a little mussed and clothes a little out of place.

“Oooh, Prada is a good brand, but dad prefers Calvin Klein.” Harry then proceeded to smooth over Peter's collar, which prompted a surprised squeak from the other teen. “Where'd you get this?”

“Well...” Wearing expensive clothing looked to be a bad idea. Peter doesn't have an excuse handy. He ended up fidgeting a little with a nervous smile, thoughts racing. Wait, wasn't James Drake the CEO of an advertising firm? “So, uh... Honeycomb Productions had this freelance thing for photographers, and I was like – why not? So yeah, spent my first pay check on bills and then on clothes.”

“Well, it is a good look on you,” Gwen piped up. “You should wear it more often.”

Peter hummed.

Okay, it wasn't the usual fare of bad luck, but hey – Peter was taking what he could get. It could be worse, like Flash finding the Spider-Man costume underneath his clothes. Peter ended up breezing through his classes, cheerier than the usual. Liz's grades already made an improvement, but she still asked for some additional tutoring for maths.

Peter happily accepted and was about to tell the cheerleader to meet up at ESU.

“No need, Flash is driving us.”

What?

“It was really sweet of him!” Liz continued cheerily, while Peter was struck with the image of Flash tying him up over the hood of his car. On one hand, that was illegal, and on the other.... Well – free ride. Heh. “You could bring Gwen too – we'd fit.”

Peter shuffled around nervously. He thought back to the budget planner inside his bag. It was just one ride, but Peter's been learning that if he could save as much as possible, then it just delayed his need to contact James Drake for even a few more days.

“Fine,” Peter replied with reluctance. Liz made a happy noise and gave him a quick hug and peck on the cheek. “You sure he's okay with Puny Parker and Geekette hitching a ride?”

“Oh, don't be ridiculous. It was his idea!”

Again, what?

Flash's car was a black convertible with spray-painted lightning bolts. The quarterback was already on the driver's seat, playing Angry Birds on his smartphone. Both Peter and Gwen fidgeted nervously a few metres away while Liz ran forward to give the blond a quick peck on the cheek.

“Flash!” The Latina then waved for the other two over. “Come on, we're gonna be late!”

Liz pulled Gwen to the back seats and Peter made to follow, but Flash made one of his obnoxious noises when he was about to get in.

“Shotgun, Puny Parker.” The brunet gave the quarterback a withering glare before sighing and then made his way to the passenger's side.

Liz and Flash were talking about something with football and cheerleading, while Gwen and Peter would make interested noises every now and then even if they weren't really listening. Then Liz turned her attention to Gwen and proceeded whatever it was that came in her mind. It was mostly about boys and fashion, which wasn't much, and then it turned to – much to Peter's surprise – children's cartoons and... ships?

Peter spent it in total silence, chin propped on his hand, while he watched buildings and people speed by. He made sure to stick as far as possible from Flash, who he caught shooting him blank looks. It prickled on his awareness, made him self-conscious of the costume underneath his civvies.

Peter couldn't jump outside the car soon enough when the blond finally parked it. He almost rushed all the way to the labs if it wasn't for Gwen grabbing him by the shirt with and gave him a raised brow. Peter smiled weakly and shrugged.

“Big childhood bully, yanno?”

Peter made sure to wait for Flash and Liz to get out before leading the way to the labs, his grip on his bag tight. Peter can feel the bigger teen just right behind him, his bulk just made the brunet hyper aware of his presence.

Liz continued to prod and ask Gwen questions, and it looked to Peter that the blonde was opening up – if her cheerier and excited answers were any indication.

 _'Nice to know Gwen and Liz are having fun.'_ The brunet's gaze flickered over to Flash then back to the front, scowling a little. _'Unlike everyone....'_

Eddie was mopping up when Peter pushed the doors open, and he quickly turned to the newcomers with a big grin.

“About time the Connors are – Flash?” The other blond narrowed his eyes at the jock, ready to brandish the mop. “What are you doing here?”

“He drove us over! Isn't he the sweetest?” Liz piped cheerfully, hugging one of Flash's muscular arms.

“Yeah, I'm like just trying to see what's so great about these nerd fest. Can't believe they gotcha, Brock.” Flash took a step forward in challenge, Eddie meeting him half-way in an aggressive stance. The two had about a feet apart, glaring at each other with classic alpha-male attitudes with puffed chests and fierce expressions. “You're just another nerd now.”

Peter could actually feel the heat of their glares, raising the hair at the back of his neck. The teen was all the more aware that Gwen and Liz were there, and that had Peter asked to meet with Liz somewhere else, this wouldn't be happening.

Eddie scoffed. “How's school working out for you? Scraping by with F's, are we?”

“Knock it off, Flash,” Peter warned, stepping in between the two blondes. The brunet tried pulling Eddie away, worried that about punches flying. Except the older blond didn't budge, scowling fiercely at the jock. Flash and Eddie never did get along, and were barely civil before Eddie graduated from Midtown. “Okay, that's enough you too. Come on bro, Flash isn't worth it.”

What were the girls doing? Peter took a glance at the two, only to find that they were whispering at each other... excitedly? What.

Before either blond could talk, Doctor Connors came walking in with a tray of cake. He seemed to have ignored the fight ready to break out between the previous and current star of the football team of Midtown High.

“Alright kids, settle down. We're celebrating today, and Peter – your friends are invited too, while they're here....”

* * *

 

Peter was expecting a disaster that day, so really, he shouldn't have been surprised that Doctor Connors getting his arm back had to be offset by him turning into a giant lizard monster. The cake was nice, though – chocolate, hmmm.

That and Peter, finally, _finally_ , got decent pictures of Spider-Man.

The stills stared at the teen accusingly, Doctor Connors enormous maw snapping at the webbed hero right before he managed to force the Lizard to drink the gene cleanser. Peter already got the vial hidden under his desk, and decided to keep Spider-Man.

Now?

Peter can cut off contact with James Drake now that he could get pictures of the Spider-Man for the Bugle. He wouldn't have to sell his body for money, nor would he need to worry about the following months. Except....

Except he would be taking advantage of the Connors' pain. It would be a betrayal of their trust. Bad enough he ran out on them, pretending to check a text from Aunt May, just so he can change to his costume. It was bad enough that he had to look like he was only interested in saving his own skin – now he was going to sell pictures of Curt Connors just for money.

Peter stuffed the stills under his bed.

If Peter was going to hurt people who did nothing except help him get a better future, people who cared for him, just for money.... It would be better if Peter picked a job where no one was hurt at all. He wouldn't be betraying the Connors' trust if he worked for James Drake instead. Besides, it wouldn't be a regular thing and –

James wouldn't have to be Peter's only client.

First off, Peter had no idea how the oldest profession in the world _worked_ exactly; and what he knew came from Spider-Man rescuing working boys and girls from thugs or dickheads who couldn't take no for an answer. They had to have some place to stay, right? Then again, he was seeing stuff online about, well... hookers sharing their experience or giving advise to people starting out. There must be an agency or something, some place that helps out minors too.

Inspired, Peter grabbed his laptop and proceeded to browse.

He had work to do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we see two potential suitors trying to scare off the other to attract the attention of the potential mate. Except, a lizard says no to that shit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and feedback! I really love reading your comments, and not to worry! Peter won't be losing any powers. Generally, I have a happy ending in mind, and I'm just making my way getting there~
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy! :D

It was two weeks later when Liz stopped asking Peter for lessons. Gwen took over, actually. Liz still had Flash drive them to the Connors lab. On the other hand, Peter often found himself hanging out with the jock-cheerleader clique (to Harry's secretly buried delight, since it included him too) more often these days.

Robertson – Randy was actually rather cool and down-to-earth, which was good in Peter's book. Kong was... well, Kong. Just because Peter was hanging out with Liz and Randy (Flash, by proxy), did not mean wet willies and impromptu showers by water balloons were above the jock.

Which was why Peter found himself mourning the strawberry flavoured stain on his white Gucci button-down front that Friday noon.

“Kenny!” Gwen scolded, the big jock just shrugged with a non-apologetic grin. Liz was cooing at Peter's ruined shirt, while Randy and Sally settled down across him in their table. Sally made a sound, gave her cup a considering look, and then coughed to catch Peter's attention.

“Here.” On her hand was a repurposed spray cologne bottle. “That's watered down bleach with liquid detergent. Use cold water on the stain and pat it with the paper towels – don't rub it.”

“Thanks?” Peter took it slowly, staring at Sally the whole time, who had the most bored expression on her face.

Sally made a disgusted snort. “That's L'Aveugle Par Amour, and it's like, a crime against humanity to ruin it. So don't, nerd boy.”

Peter nodded and then nodded at Gwen, and then ran as fast as he could to the nearest lavatory. He pulled his shirt as far as he can from his body without unbuttoning it, worried that someone might see the Spider-Man costume underneath. The teen then proceeded to spray the area and then proceeded to dry off the stain with the paper towels, becoming cheerier by the minute as the red seeped away.

“Wouldn't that irritate your skin or something?”

Peter jumped with a loud yelp, quickly pulling his shirt down unnecessarily. “Flash! What – why are you here?”

“To take a piss?” The blond raised a brow, like Peter's the one who's getting Fs in most of his classes. The athlete was right behind Peter, almost crowding the smaller boy. Midtown High's stalls were just in front of the sinks with the urinals close to the door, leaving a narrow space for students to pass through. Perfect opportunity for bigger bullies to catch their smaller victims. “What are you? The geek squad captain?”

Peter could feel embarrassment colour his cheeks and the tips of his ears pink. The red on his shirt was barely there now, and the wet spots were drying quickly. Flash wasn't moving, the urinals were right behind him, and Peter was stuck.

“Okay, I'm heading back now,” Peter said impatiently, tapping his foot on the cracked linoleum. Sally's little mix was already on the brunette's back-pocket, and the paper towels already found their home on the nearest bin. The smaller teen really needed to return to the cafeteria, and Flash was literally in the way. “There's like, five empty stalls there.”

Flash was giving him the same intense stare, blue eyes bright and piercing. Peter could feel the hairs at the back of his neck rise, getting annoyed at the longer the blond stood there. The athlete pursed his glossy lips, and then sidestepped to let Peter through.

Peter tried to move past the blond with as little contact as possible. The brunet froze, trying to suppress a grimace when the athlete's shoulder accidentally brushed another bruise, thanks to another night of falling wrong at the last minute. It was quick, gone as soon as it came. Still, Peter couldn't help but give Flash an annoyed look. The blond just shrugged, and then made his way to the stall at the end of the room.

With Flash gone, Peter let out a heavy breath and then sprinted back to the cafeteria. Gwen had an extra cup of chocolate pudding for him when he almost cried in dismay to find that Flash stole his. Kenny was long gone, thankfully. Also: Gwen really was the best.

“Thanks.” Peter handed the bottle back to Sally, and then set the pudding on the table before sitting down. She quickly stuffed her concoction inside her handbag. “For grass stains?”

“Yes.” She squinted her eyes, inspecting Peter's handiwork. The shirt was almost dry, and the stains were nearly invisible. Peter could wash it properly once he got home. “I still see strawberries, but that should do.”

“Sally's really great with DIY and other stuff! My bike had this problem with the chassis, and there was this guy at the shop that had no idea what he was doing, then Sally –“

“Randy, not here,” the cheerleader chided the athlete, her cheeks flushing lightly. Randy had the most star-struck and goofy expression, eyes bright and his big hands grasping Sally's affectionately. “Tomorrow, please?”

“Sure thing, babe.”

Gwen was smiling knowingly with Liz, exchanging whispers while they watched Sally and Randy exchange fond looks. Peter had to shake his head when he realised that he was staring with a smile of his own as well.

 _'They're really sweet,'_ Peter thought, discreetly averting his gaze. The two weren't doing anything other than trace circles on each other's hands, leaning at each other with an air full of fondness.

A minute passed, and the brunet was starting to feel awkward. He was still unused to the idea of being affectionate out in the open. Pete started tapping a pattern on his leg, eyes darting around and then subtly checking the time on his phone. Then he remembered that he still has a cup of pudding, so he slowly ripped the label of as silent as possible. The brunet just stared at the cafeteria double doors, eating his dessert as slow as possible to stretch out the time. They still had ten minutes before lunch break ends.

Staring at the doors was a mistake.

Flash sneaked in. _Sneaked_ inside. Flash ;I have no subtlety in a single bone' Thompson, sneaked inside a densely populate room without announcing his presence like he owned the school.

Brown met blue for a single fleeting moment, and then it was gone.

Peter averted his gaze and poured his concentration into licking off the cheap (but delicious) chocolate pudding.

The brunet felt a burning awareness prickle down his spine, can feel Flash's blue eyes resting on his back. Peter let Liz's and Gwen's conversation wash over him through the loud din of hundreds of hormone-addled teenagers. Flash should be sauntering over, with an easy and confident grin.

A hundred teenagers in an enclosed space meant hundreds of hormonal, awkward bodies trying to manoeuvrer a space with poor air-conditioning that passed as spacious for sardines. If Peter took a really long and deep sniff, the most prominent odours would either be sweat or nausea. A single glance and hundreds of different faces should greet anyone's sight, names slipping past until you realise – oh, he's the one that did this or that.

Except, Peter can feel Flash's eyes on him. He had his back turned, gaze averted and conversations going in one ear and out the other, wilfully ignoring the blond jock by pretending there's negative space where one Eugene “Flash” Thompson should be.

Hindsight was 20/20. Peter should have known that would have been a bad idea, to begin with.

What was Flash looking at, anyway?

It was almost electrifying, to be aware of the bigger teen watching him. Peter knew that Flash had taken to looking at him for the past few weeks, and Peter found himself catching the blond in the act, that it would have been easier counting the instances he didn't catch Flash staring. The athlete did his best to be subtle about it, pretending that his blue gaze just passed by Peter's form before settling somewhere else.

Peter thought that it was just a one-time thing, or that Flash would get tired eventually and think of something new to entertain himself with.

Maybe the bigger teen will stop, once he realised that Peter was just the same old Puny Parker – just with less monetary problems and a better wardrobe.

Peter frowned when he finished his dessert too soon, pouting lightly at the loss of his sweet dessert. Gwen and Liz were now having a passionate debate about the supposed anatomy of wolves, while Sally and Randy were still lost in each other's eyes.

Then Flash taps him on the back.

“Flash!” Peter almost jumped, wondered just how did the bigger boy bypass his spider sense, and then peered up to scowl at the blond. Flash was staring rather intently at Peter's face, as if Peter held the secret to a winning touchdown in football.

“Ew, you eat like an animal Parker?” The athlete made a strangled noise, averting his gaze. “You have cream on your mouth.”

The brunet raised a brow, and then licked where he guessed the cream would be on his lips. Flash's eyes flickered back to Peter, and the blond just hid his hands on his pockets and turned on his heel. “I'm leaving you losers in Loserville, 'sides,need to get to my next class”

“Flash Thompson wants to get to the next class?” Gwen said consiprationally. Liz made a fake gasping noise. “He has been infected with nerd, Peter, we're contagious!”

Randy chuckled and helped Sally up. “Loserville is where the losers are. No one can get away.”

“Nah, I have the cure, Kenny's throwing a party at his place. Told me we need Puny Parker to be the piñata and geekette's glasses for the disco ball.” Flash checked something on his phone, and then stuffed his hand back inside his jeans again. “8pm tonight.”

“You should go.” Liz nudged Gwen. “It should be fun – you should bring Eddie too!”

“Ugh.” Flash scowled. “College kids ruin shit.”

“Wait, isn't Kenny's sister going to be there, and she's a college kid?” Gwen peered up at Flash, whose scowl just tightened.

“Gwen, Flash's just threatened by my bro's masculinity.” Peter's lips curved in amusement. “It's okay Flash, you're Midtown's current biggest alpha male, just don't go to ESU. Eddie's got that covered.”

Flash was about to say something, but Liz was already dragging him to their next class with a bounce in her step. Peter did catch Flash mumbling something along the lines of Eddie's muscles shrinking from all the nerd work.

“Liz hasn't stopped talking about it since first period.” Gwen turned to Peter. “Harry's supposed to be invited too, but his dad called in sick.”

“This is kinda weird.” The brunet fidgeted, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, we used to be like on opposite ends of the spectrum. Now... Kenny's inviting us to a party at his house. If Flash asked us last year, it'd probably be because we're in the Twilight Zone.”

“Yeah,” Gwen agreed. “Do you think Eddie would come? He _is_ invited. I mean, Kenny's sister used to have a big crush on him, so she'd want him there.”

“Unless Doc Connors lets him have the day off, he might be there.” Peter then checked his phone to see if he had any appointments before or after seven. “Me though, can't stay for long, need to be home at ten.”

“Dad would pick me up when I call. We could give you a ride home.”

“It's okay, I can get home fine.”

With that, the two part ways, since both have different classes after lunch. Peter spent the next period discreetly finishing up any forgotten homework for the next classes, with half his attention on whatever lecture ongoing.

There's a buzzing energy among the student body, excited for the weekend, more so for those invited to Kenny Kong's house that night. Even the teachers were agitated. They were just as eager to dismiss their students just so they could relax – free from teenaged drama and grading papers that would make most people want to claw their eyes out.

The last bell for the day couldn't ring any sooner.

Gwen and Liz weren't there when Peter arrived at Flash's usual parking spot. The blond was tapping away rapidly at his smart phone, his blue eyes unusually intense and focused. Peter's shoes scuffled on the asphalt, but the bigger teen's attention was purely on his phone. The brunet took a quick glance left and right, a little worried that it's taking some time for the girls to arrive.

Peter checked the time on his phone (it was 4:18), and still no sign of either Liz or Gwen. They should be in the Connors lab by 5:00. Sure, there were days when the two were rushing to ESU after a particularly rough day, but that doesn't mean they were going to make a habit out of being late.

Which brought Peter to his current predicament – where was Gwen?

“Liz and Gwen had to pick something up.” Peter whipped his head to Flash, who was still engrossed on his phone. “Said they'd meet us up at the lab.”

“What?” Peter snapped his jaw shut when he realised it was hanging open for half a minute already. “Why didn't they tell earlier?”

Flash shrugged. “Girl problems. The night of the blood moon. That kind of thing.”

“Oh.” Peter paused. “Well, I better catch the bus, then.”

The brunet tightened his hold on his bag, and then motioned to leave. Before the smaller teen could take his second step, Flash already had a hand on his shoulder and was herding him on the other side of his convertible. The blond's warm grip was gentle, but firm enough that Peter was suddenly aware how big and calloused it was. The sensation sent a slight jolt to Peter's head. Bewildered, Peter deftly got out of Flash's hold. He glared at the bigger boy.

“What gives?” Peter scowled, crossing his arms.

Flash gave him an unreadable stare, mouth curved downwards. “You're already here, and gas is expensive. If you and geekette are going to Kenny's party, it'd be easier to drive you three with me.”

“Oh.” Peter found he couldn't argue with that logic. “Wait, why didn't you just wait for us there, then?”

“Liz _just_ texted me.” Then Flash took to staring at Peter with his sky-blue gaze. The athlete was always looking _for_ something at Peter, and the brunet had no idea what it was. Could it be dirt smudged on Peter's face? The teen already made sure that his face was clean and if there were ever any bruises from his vigilante work, he'd already have it covered.

“Okay.” Peter glanced at the car door, avoiding the athlete's eyes. The brunet fidgeted, unsure how to proceed. Flash's phone vibrated, and Peter's attention snapped to it. Flash gave it a glance, breaking the stare, and then went over to the driver's side.

Before unlocking the car, the athlete gave his phone a quick look, and then got in. Peter took that as his cue to get in. Granted, Peter could have refused and take the bus to Dr. Connors' lab, but a free ride was a free ride. It would have saved on bus fare and Peter wouldn't have to wait at the stop.

Without Liz and Gwen to chatter in the background, Peter was struck with the near deathly silence that pervaded the car once Flash got it started. The engine rumbled smoothly, purring like a cat, and the car would make those satisfying roars whenever the blond stepped on the gas. It still made the brunet hyper aware that he was sitting all alone, with Eugene “Flash” Thompson in his car. The smaller boy's eyes would flicker towards Flash, whose attention was focused mainly on the road.

Peter did catch Flash looking at him every now and then. The teen tried not to think of the last time he was alone with someone in a car, and how that ended up.

They were about blocks away from Washington Square, when they ended up in heavy traffic. Flash glared at the SUV in front of them, muttering angrily about New York traffic. Peter found himself smiling wryly when Flash's rant began to border on just plain bizarre – like if Spider-Man was out there, everything would just flow smoothly.

Really, the brunet couldn't help it, but he ended up laughing loudly when Flash's voice broke in tenor when the car in front of them lurched backwards. Thankfully, it didn't hit the blond's convertible.

“Jesus Christ with a handlebar!” Flash looked like he was about to get out of the car and introduce the driver in front of them to his fist, but a quick glance at Peter's amused expression had him steaming quietly. His grip on the wheel was firm, but it looked like the athlete wasn't as angry as he looked, if the sudden relaxation at the furrow between his brows were anything to go by. “It's almost five.”

Flash sounded disappointed, sullen even, that Peter would be late to his shift at ESU.

“It's okay, Doc Connors would understand.” Peter relaxed on his seat. “Eddie usually covers for Gwen and I when we're running late.”

“Right. Brock.” Flash leaned forward, scowling fiercely at the SUV in front. “Does he drive you home, or something?”

“No. I just take the bus.” Peter gave the blond a curious glance. “Why ask?”

The bigger boy shrugged. “No reason. So... you just go home alone after work, right?”

“Yes.” Peter raised a brow. “No really, why are you asking?”

Flash kept his gaze on the road, tapping his fingers idly on the wheel. “I'm just curious. You're a really boring loser, you know.”

The brunet huffed. “Yes, of course, nothing interesting. I'll have you know, working with Doctor Connors is an amazing experience and –“

“And you just hang around wearing white coats and watch stuff in microscopes. Nothing could be more boring than that.” Flash then made a victorious whoop when the vehicle in front of them began to move. “Then you write stuff. For hours. Seriously, I've been to the lab. There's nothing exciting there – well, except when Spider-Man saved the day.”

“Well, if you take an interest in what we do – or see how life and nature and the world works, see how it's all connected, you'd be amazed.” Peter took a deep breath, and then talked. Now that Flash insulted science, the brunet felt the burning need to defend and show Flash just how amazing it could be.

The blond made a noise here and there to let Peter know that he's still listening, and he would make a question or two whenever Peter paused. Usually, it was something about _how_ exactly did Peter find a bacteria multiplying if the nerd was so smart? Peter was practically ecstatic to oblige how they observe a culture in various environments. They usually start with a control group and create various other groups with the same control size and observe and document findings as time passed by.

The car ride felt like it didn't even end, as Peter continued to tell Flash the wonders of molecular biology as they stepped through the lab doors.

“–experiments on genetic engineering are amazing, since he managed to narrow down which genes to – oh, hey bro!” Peter was grinning when he made his way to Eddie. The two bumped fists and the brunet yelped when the older boy proceeded to give him a noogie. “Eddie! Hey – stop that!”

The blond gave him one last rub in the head and then let go. Blue met blue, and then Flash and Eddie were back to glaring at each other. It seemed that shared trauma did nothing to the hostility they had for one another. “Thompson.”

“Brock.”

“Okay, you're both alpha males, I get that. Play nice, please?” Peter said the last part to Eddie, giving him a pleading pout. The former athlete reluctantly turned away from Flash, but did not turn his back completely.

“Where's Gwen and Liz?” Eddie asked, and then headed over to a microscope to continue whatever Connors had him observe.

“They had girl problems,” Peter said. “Flash drove me over.”

Eddie's brows furrowed at that, his eyes flickering over to the other blond. “Just the two of you?”

“Is there a problem?” Flash crossed his arms and raised a brow. Eddie remained bent over the microscope. “Yeah, we were alone. Puny Parker would've been ran over by a bus, so I had to drive him here.”

“Nothing, I'm guessing you had him ride in the trunk.” Eddie's voice couldn't even be more casual. “When did you start caring about my bro, anyway?”

“Cut it out, you two.” Peter huffed, tapping his foot in annoyance. “Somehow, you two are way worse than back in middle school.”

“Not to break the news, or anything,” Eddie began. “But this Flash Thompson we're talking about. Flash 'stuffed you in a locker and it took me three hours just to find you' Thompson. The same Flash 'stole your lunch money for arcade to bail out of classes' Thompson.”

Peter felt his cheeks flush. Eddie did have a point. Flash was Peter's own personal bully, and he had been a constant victim of stolen lunch money and wrecked notebooks. Except....

Flash hadn't done anything to hurt Peter. Not anything fully intentional or downright humiliating like the previous year.

Because the last time Flash tried to play a prank on Peter.... Peter fought back. With good reason.

Granted, Peter just slapped Flash. It wasn't a punch, but Peter knew slaps were twice as humiliating. It was not something the brunet liked to dwell on, since it wasn't exactly one of his proudest moments. He could have knocked Flash's head off clean with a single blow, or snapped his neck. Before the bite, Peter often fantasised about getting back at the blond. Now that he _could_ , doesn't mean he should.

Peter could take anything Flash would dish out anyway. His super strength could easily put the bigger teen down.

The vigilante gave Flash a quick glance. The athlete looked... conflicted.

Before Peter could dwell on it any longer, the doors opened and Liz and Gwen were rushing inside with embarrassed expressions.

That was enough of a conversation stopper for the three boys.

Flash found a corner to play Angry Birds, Liz and Gwen spent most of the time with their heads bent together to work on homework, and Peter helped with whatever Eddie was working on.

Whenever Eddie caught Flash within his periphery, he'd give the younger boy an annoyed glare before returning his attention to their work. Two hours later, Eddie and Peter were bouncing back ideas when their tests did not produce any viable results, which had the them (Gwen included) scraping the project from the bottom up.

It was a good day, barring the fact that Kenny Kong almost ruined Peter's shirt and getting Flash's nearly undivided attention during the drive.

The Connors were packing up and let the four teens leave, seeing as Curt needed to discuss a few things with his department's head for further funding. It was a quiet day compared to the others, and Peter was practically brimming with excitement to leave.

He had an appointment tonight.

The brunet concentrated on his phone. Peter gave his phone all his attention, making a few interested noises whenever someone aimed the conversation at him.

“Eddie, there's a party at Kong's house.” Liz beamed.

“Uh, yeah. Jennifer invited me. Not sure if I'm going....”

“Gwen and Peter are going,” Liz pointed out. “Right?”

“Yep. Right, Peter?” Gwen tapped Peter on the shoulder. The teen jolted in surprise.

“Huh? Oh yeah, right.” He quickly pocketed the device, and then stared in confusion at his friends' expectant stares. “Oh, the party. I think I'll just pass by – Aunt May wants me home by ten.”

Liz made a happy squeal and then proceeded to pull Gwen and Peter with her. Then she tossed a glance back at Eddie and shouted. “Meet you there, Eddie!”

Flash then followed quick, all four of them headed to the parking area.

Peter wanted to seat at the back, but Liz managed to manoeuvrer him to seat shotgun. On the upside, the girls chatting managed to fill the silence the brunet suffered through when it was just him and Flash.

The traffic wasn't as bad, and the four arrived at Kenny's house in record time. Eddie was already there, parking his motorcycle when Flash pulled up to the driveway. There were already half a dozen cars Peter recognised from their school. Liz and Gwen were the first to get out, and Peter reluctantly followed next.

“Hey, bro,” he put a hand on Eddie's shoulder after the bigger teen pulled his helmet off. “Liz is pretty convincing.”

“Speaking from experience?” Eddie stretched his shoulders, eyeing the Latina and blonde getting inside the large house. As far as Peter knew, the Kong family owned a pretty big business back in Taiwan, and that Kenny's parents would drop by their country every three months or so to check on it. As far as rumours went, Kenny Kong got on ESU thanks to his parents' generous donations to the school board.

“Don't I know it?” Peter said in mock affront. Eddie chuckled, but Peter felt his mood turn sour when the blond caught Flash walking up the Kong's porch.

“Seriously, Peter, he steals your shoes and he used to stuff you inside lockers with smelly socks. Doesn't that ring a bell?”

“He's not that bad these days,” Peter replied. It was true. Flash was bad, but he wasn't doing any of his usual antics. If anything, the worst the athlete did was poke Peter on the back. It was a distraction at best, and irritating at worst – but that was only if Peter was injured. If anything, Flash took care _not_ to hurt Peter at all.

“If you say so,” Eddie said in a cool tone.

Heavy bass and strobe lights pulsed in quick, steady rhythms. Chatter from high school and college kids alike spilled out to the yard. Peter glanced up to see someone's naked rear pressed on the window pane, the lights dimmed out to see who were making out. From the other side, someone was throwing rolls of toilet paper, whooping wildly.

When was the last time Eddie and Peter spent time alone? Nothing came to mind. For the past year or two, either Gwen or Aunt May were within their peripheries whenever they talked.

For the first time in his life, Peter was at loss for words. Even at school, what the blond did for most of the part was make sure Flash wasn't stuffing him in lockers or stealing his shoes. They only did homework and projects if ever Eddie slept over at the Parker residence. At the lab, Curt or Martha – or Billy, even – would be there, too.

The brunet glanced at Eddie. The blond wasn't paying attention to anything in particular, a mild expression on his face.

Feeling a little adventurous for that night, Peter turned to his childhood friend. “You do know Jenny Kong likes you, right?”

Eddie glanced at him, eyebrow already raised. “Yeah, why bring it up?”

“Well... I mean, have you ever like, dated?” Peter shifted on his feet, rocking at the bottom of his heels. “Like – you're the perfect guy. You have the classic American Dream Boy look. Then there's good grades, quarter back in Midtown, scholarship at ESU – who _wouldn't_ date you?”

Eddie gave Peter a long look, and then replied. “Plenty of people are put off by the assistance scientist thing – like I'd go Frankenstein any time of the day.”

The brunet rolled his eyes. “A lot of people dig smart guys.”

“Your dating history says otherwise, bro.” Eddie grabbed Peter into a playful arm-hold and proceeded to ruffle the younger teen's hair. Peter didn't protest much, laughing at the contact. The brunet could feel the deep rumbles coming from Eddie's chest that Peter could feel on his own. It left Peter feeling high and energised.

Peter was five again, and Eddie – seven. Wrestling in the park while their parents watched. There was no plane crash or tragic death to separate them. Just Peter and Eddie.

Thing is, good things don't last with Peter, so Eddie had to let go, and Peter had to take few steps away. Their laughter quieted down, and then it tapered off to light-hearted chuckling before dying out completely.

Kids went in and out through the Kong residence front door, the music blasting throughout the street. It was a miracle that no one called the police yet for disrupting the peace.

“So, uh....” Peter began, shifting awkwardly. “It's been a while since we hanged out with just the two of us, and Aunt May's been asking about you... so, I was wondering if you're up to a marathon or go zombie hunting with me. Aunt May still makes awesome banana bread.”

“Are you sure about that?” Eddie frowned, concerned. “Aren't you guys... short?”

“It's okay,” Peter beamed. “I got it covered. We have enough.”

“No seriously bro, I wouldn't want to impose or–“

Peter grabbed Eddie by the shoulders, meeting ice-blue eyes and mustering the most serious expression on his face.

“Money is not a problem.” Peter pulled away, his expression softer. “If you don't want to come, it's okay, I guess. But, I'd really like it if you do.”

Eddie shuffled, still looking conflicted. “Do I have to answer now?”

“No, not really.” Still, Peter hoped that Eddie would like to hang out.

The vigilante knew that with his busy schedule, inviting Eddie to hang out might cause some hiccups, but Peter felt like it was something he had been neglecting ever since he became Spider-Man. For now, he'd take what he could get, and that was Eddie's non answer.

He'll just keep his fingers crossed then.

No later than that, Kenny's older sister, Jennifer Kong found the two and then began making her way towards them. Her attention was completely focused on the blond, and her eyes practically slid over Peter's lithe form.

“Eddie!” She smiled, posture inviting. “How are you? I haven't seen you, in like, forever!”

The blond raised a brow, taking a step away from her space. “Maybe because our classes are in opposite ends of the campus? It's a big mystery.”

Peter stared at the former athlete. He wasn't sure if he was hearing things, but the blond sounded _very_ uninterested. Stoic, even. Maybe Eddie's type was more like Gwen, then?

“Aw, don't be like that. I'm just checking in on a friend, for a friend.” Then, to Peter's complete surprise, she turned all her attention on him. Her grin reminded the brunet of a shark. “Ooh, hi Petey!”

Peter swallowed inaudibly, his spider sense wasn't tingling, but he couldn't help but think that Jennifer was about to eat him alive. Nervously, he took a step back and Eddie actually slung an arm over his shoulders. That helped settle his nerves, but if the wider smile on Jennifer's face was anything to go by, it didn't seem like a good idea.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing, really. Just wanted to see Mister Perfect and his nerd who managed to grow a fashion sense.” Peter's brain shorted out. What?

She let out a long wolf-whistle, leering at Peter almost appreciatively. “Sorry about my idiot brother. Ruining a Gucci, the fiend.”

Peter blushed, resisting the urge to hide his face behind his hands. Instead, he settled looking down, scowling fiercely. Jennifer laughed loudly.

“Oh my god. I want to pinch his cheeks.”

“Christ.” Peter did bury his face behind his hands, cheeks and ears growing warmer by the minute. He couldn't see Eddie's expression, but the smaller did feel the older boy pull him closer to his muscular body.

 _'He's warm.'_ Peter thought, noting that the goosebumps that rose on his arms were starting to smooth away. Eddie pulled him closer to his personal space.

“You know, you're – oh, Flash! How are you?”

Peter's head snapped up, to see the current Midtown quarterback making his way to the three. He had two bottles of beer on each hand. Jennifer took two and removed the cap on one with the other bottle. She handed the opened bottle to Peter.

The brunet shook his head. The girl shrugged and took a long swig. The two blonds were eyeing each other in near open hostility, and Peter broke off from Eddie's hold just to get between the two.

“Guys, haven't you already worked this out ages ago, or something?” Peter gave Jennifer a quick glance, who looked to be extremely fascinated by the previous and current football stars of Midtown. She was just missing the popcorn.

The two were ready to have their pre-fist fight verbal spar. Before Peter could say anything to get the two separate, he nearly face-planted on the asphalt when a bigger body slammed him from behind – without triggering spider sense.

“Hey – Johnny?” Peter twisted and met Johnny Storm's nearly blinding grin. The older boy was wearing a stylish navy shirt, with two buttons off to show off his rather amazing chest. Peter felt a relieved smile curving on his face when the other two blondes' attention shifted to the newcomer.... Which, in hindsight, wasn't really a good idea. “I – you know Kong?”

“Not exactly, a friend of a friend of a friend asked me – that kind of thing.”

Jennifer's voice was high and just suppressed her wild laughter. “You have a _type_.”

Peter ignored her.

Then Johnny slung an arm around Peter and started pulling him away. Before they could put in much of a distance, Eddie was clearing his throat.

“Wait, aren't you Sue Storm's brother?”

Johnny threw a grin over at his back, meeting Eddie's eyes. “Totally. Okay, I'm gonna have to borrow our mutual friend here, because! Well, I just want to borrow him. I lost my other friend but then I saw Peter's cute butt here and now I'm taking him away to my space ship.”

Peter made a muffled sound, amused. Then Johnny quickly pulled him away to a run before Eddie could say anything else. The two ended up hiding in a neighbour's tool shed, with just a flickering light bulb for illumination.

“That would be three hundred an hour,” Peter said in mock-seriousness. Then he checked the time on his phone – 9:22 – Peter couldn't take a quick patrol, but he could head home before sneaking out.

“Nah, you'd have to afford me first. I'm actually half a grand, but since this is your first time, you get about fifty percent off. Taxes and other charges may apply.” Johnny grinned back, making sure to avoid a crate of power tools.

“Any reason why you pulled me off from my friends?” Peter relaxed and leaned on the wooden wall. Johnny was flicking a zippo open and close, not really paying attention to his surroundings.

“I don't actually know anyone there, and I needed someone familiar.” Johnny's warm blue gaze flickered up to the brunet. “Aren't you supposed to, you know?”

“Well, I need to be home a little early, and then sneak out when my Aunt's asleep.” Peter shifted. “Do you want me to stay here with you?”

“Nah, I'm good now. Besides, your friends might think I'm some sort of serial killer and I'm taking you away to my cabin in the woods”

Peter snorted. “Really? A vacation in some remote cabin the woods would be very nice.”

“Sure thing.” The blond cracked a grin. “Oh yeah, I better give you back before they call the police or something. Officer O'Hara couldn't look at me in the eye the last time Sue had to bail my ass out.”

“Johnny Storm, the biggest garden tool in all of SoHo.”

“Part of my charm. People pay for that.”

Peter rolled his eyes, but he did give Johnny a friendly glance. “I'm actually just going sneak out and text Gwen or something.”

“You do that, I'd be here for a while. Need to freshen up my social butterfly wings.”

With that, Peter left Johnny alone, and then crouched in a dark corner to text Gwen that he's headed home. That and he's sorry about leaving early, but he doesn't want to have Aunt May worry. Peter did text Eddie next, and said that whenever felt like hanging out, Eddie could always text him or something.

After getting his friends updated, Peter got out of his hiding place and then stealthily tried to make his way away from Kenny's house. They lived in the more upscale side of Forest Hills, and the walk to the Parker residence may take about fifteen minutes.

The Kong residence was in the general direction to Peter's house, but the brunet was pretty confident that he could slip by without attracting anyone else's attention.

He was a Parker, really, he should have been expecting bad luck from the get go.

His spider sense sparked at the last minute, and Peter froze when Flash's voice cut through the thumping bass and chattering teenagers.

“Hey Parker! Where are you going?” The blond was right behind Peter, and the brunet took a deep breath before turning on his heel.

“Uh, home? Aunt May's probably worried sick, you know....” Peter took a step back, smiling blithely. “That's like a fifteen minute walk. So.... I best be going.”

Then he power walked away. Flash didn't say anything else or made a move to follow, and Peter counted on his lucky stars not to bump into anyone else. With how fast the brunet tried to get away from the party, he managed to cut his walk by half, and practically announced his presence once he got home.

“Peter!” She was in the kitchen, reviewing their bills with a concerned expression. All of them had been paid, Peter made sure of it, she was probably wondering _how_. “Have you eaten already? There's spaghetti in the fridge.”

“Okay!” Peter rushed to his room. “I'll be in my room, doing homework!”

“Alright.”

* * *

The Crimson Silk had tasteful dark panelling, low tables under hanging lights, a large bar with an enormous selection of alcohol, leather-bound chairs, and an enormous stage that mimicked runways – except, a dozen poles were installed on every metre and a half.

It was a Friday night, so the whole place was practically packed. Bass speakers lining the walls thumped in strong and steady rhythms and the red tinted lights gave the impression that the inside of the bar was some organ. Men and women hooted and cheered the scantily clad workers gyrating and twisting into near impossible angles on the poles.

All of the poles had someone dancing in them, except for one.

Deeper inside the bar were rooms for a more... personal exchange. Inside one were two people, one was a wealthy college student looking for his luck and the other was a lithe young man in need. The lither one was not quite as unremarkable as he liked to think of himself, nor as unmemorable. He was wearing a nearly constricting bodice and a garter belt. He had make-up on, applied for a natural look.

He was quite the image. Tousled brown hair, sweat glistening on exposed skin, hazel irises a thin ring. His lips were red, lip gloss slightly smudged, and mouth tasting like citrus and peaches. He had a very shy smile with hesitant, but knowing hands. He knew where to touch where it just danced between pleasure and pain, where nerves were bundled together that the slightest touch sparked the fieriest of arousals. He still had a lot to learn, but he knew enough to entertain – to leave anyone crying and begging.

On this night, after finishing this appointment, he will disappear in dark corners where a familiar red-blue clad vigilante will swing home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter does practice safe sex and he ends up getting working in a strip bar. I'd be writing more about his experience working there, how he got there, coworkers and stuff too in the future.
> 
> That and Norman's making an appearance on the next chapter! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More plot! Also, I know I promised that Norman is appearing, but I had to push it back for another chapter because this one got too long.
> 
> He'll definitely be appearing on the next one, that's for sure.
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading, giving comments and kudos, and bookmarking my story! Love ya guys~

Putting off meeting James Drake had to come to a head sooner or later.

“This is the fifth one this week. Peter, who is sending you these?” Aunt May had another gift-wrapped box in the kitchen, the envelope attached still unopened.

The brunet chuckled nervously. “I er... won it, in the Honeycomb Productions lottery. There's this five grand gift card to any fashion outlet associated. I got these by mail order.”

“I see...” Peter shifted, can hear the disbelief in Aunt May's voice. Still, he grabbed the box and took it to his room.

It was dreary for a Saturday morning, the sky was overcast with heavy clouds and strong gusts had been blowing non-stop. All of the aches and sores from the previous night have already healed over, but Peter felt like spending the day playing video games at bed.

Texts from last night was a 'take care' from Gwen, and a somewhat frustrating 'k' from Eddie. Still no reply from the blond about hanging out, though.

Peter already finished up all the jobs Crimson Silk scheduled for him, and he already gave his share of the earnings to the Madam. He still got to take home a four-digit sum. The accounting notebook really was a great help on managing their finances.

At the present, Peter took to glaring at the box, his spider sense blaring briefly. Carefully, he peeled off the wrappings and ribbon. With gently hands, he pried the lid off and almost dropped it.

At the very top were a pair of lacy stilettos wrapped in packaging paper. Underneath it was a perfect replica of the bodices the dancers used at the Crimson Silk. It was a very dark purple – almost black – with silky red string to hold it together. Folded neatly next to it were stylised, rose-themed lace garter belts with.

Shaken and pale, Peter found himself sinking on his bed.

Everything was too good to be true. Just when Peter thought life was looking up, something would come biting back.

With shaky hands, Peter nearly ripped the envelope open.

_Rude._

That's it. That's just what the card inside said.

Behind stared James Drake's phone number. Peter had seen it enough times to have nearly memorised the damned thing. The older man already knew his home address, and probably everything about him. Just a little digging, and Peter Parker's history was already at James' fingertips.

What scared Peter though, was that James _knew_ he worked at the Crimson Silk. The madam made sure no one damned knew where to find any of her workers outside the high-end club. The lights were low and the make-up applied on the dancers were enough to keep their actual features difficult to distinguish. The Crimson Silk practically boasted total protection for its workers.

Looked like it wasn't enough to hide Peter from James Drake.

The teen felt... violated. This was practically blackmail sitting in front of him. Technically, it was true that James Drake will get into trouble for having sex with a minor, but he had enough money and resources to get out of it. Humiliation and public stigma wouldn't be a problem because he practically lived the playboy lifestyle (not as big as Tony Stark's) and getting caught with a male sex worker wouldn't have anyone in his social circle batting an eye.

What if Aunt May and Midtown caught wind of this?

Peter could already feel his friends' judgemental gazes, their disappointment in him for choosing _this_ line of work. Hell, Doctor Connors might kick him out, just to avoid being seen associated with someone like Peter. Eddie wouldn't look at him in the eye, and Gwen will probably be telling this to her dad. The brunet always thought that should he ever be riding at the back of a police cruiser, it was because he's Spider-Man, not because he was a minor working in a bar in New York's red light district.

Peter really could not put off meeting James Drake.

On the upside, Peter had long invested on a burner phone. At the very least, the man wouldn't know his personal number.

Sighing, Peter began typing out his message, reading it at least twice before sending.

_Where do you want to meet and when?  
-Peter_

He held on to it, waiting anxiously for the older man's reply. Ten minutes later, Peter got his reply.

_There's a nice cafe at Kew Gardens – Le Macaron – everything on their menu is pretty good. How does tomorrow at 10 sound to you? It's a date._

_PS – bring the little thing I gave you. ;)_

Peter bristled, chewing on his bottom lip while thinking of a reply. He was free tomorrow, actually, and –

His personal phone vibrated once, and Peter checked it first. There's a text from Eddie.

_u k w 9am tom? how dsb horror snd 2 u???_

Peter cracked a grin. Eddie once ranted about wee phones, big fingers, a growing problem.

There was no contest with this.

Peter sent a quick yes to Eddie while he texted out a different schedule for James.

_Not available this weekend – school stuff. Saturday at 10 next week?_

James just sent a quick 'sure' in reply.

Peter closed the box and shoved it underneath the bed frame. There was no need for it until next week.

Eddie's hanging out tomorrow.

Peter gave his room a quick glance. Anything that hinted of his double (triple?) life were already hidden. The costume and many of his other paraphernalia should be under his bed frames. His earnings were in a safe box and Peter used the key as a necklace. Most of his books were organised, and the only ones lying haphazardly on his table would be his current homework. His expensive clothes were already in his drawers and closet, neatly stored. The makeshift lab equipment was still out, beakers full of his web fluid still sitting out since his web-shooters (hidden under the bed) were still full.

There was still dirty laundry on the basket close to the door, and the bin was close to overflowing. There was still a plate of leftover spaghetti on the table, courtesy of Peter's sudden craving for a midnight snack, and next to it was a glass that still had a tiny layer of pop at the very bottom. The floor needed sweeping, and Peter needed to scrub off the grime coagulating at his shower's drains.

Peter just needed to do a bit of cleaning, and his room would be spotless.

Eddie's coming tomorrow, so Peter could finish up cleaning the rest of his room before then. He bought the laundry down and washed the dishes. The web fluid looked innocuous, but he still hid it. It would be awkward to explain to the blond why he had beakers full of sticky white fluid.

There wasn't much to do that Saturday. Spider-Man did patrol, managed to stop about three muggings and a house fire.

Seriously, whoever thought that crime happened in the middle of the night might want to double-check that one. Criminals needed their sleep too, and you can't exactly mug someone if the streets were empty.

Everything looked good. Which was why at eight in the evening, when Peter was ready to come back home, he had been expecting something to happen.

The vigilante took one last swing close to the Crimson Silk, took a quick look if there were any stalkers hanging about, and was about to leave when his spider senses blared in warning.

About a block away was one of the girls – Em, a pretty redhead – was limp in the arms of what looked to be a college kid. There was a bruise blooming at the side of her head, and the kid had a knife at her bodice's string.

“Hey boy!” Spider-Man greeted, deceptively calm. “Don't you guys know that no means no?”

“She's just a hooker!”

Spider-Man scowled under the mask. Without another word, he webbed the hand holding the knife to the wall, and then pulled Em away from the soon-to-be-rapist. The man reared up to punch Spidey, but the vigilante sidestepped him with Em still in his arms.

He shot a ball of web at the perp's head and followed up by webbing his other hand to the wall, then both his legs, and his face as well just to be sure.

Hesitantly, Peter gave 911 a quick call using his burner phone. The Madam knew an officer, they should be able to make sure that Em stayed out of trouble and keep the guy from doing anything else.

Spider-Man swung to the Crimson Silk's back entrance and gave it three knocks.

The Madam's muscular bodyguard opened the steel-reinforced doors, glaring at the vigilante. When his eyes landed on Em's unconscious form, his expression quickly turned into concern.

“I'll take her in.” Spidey nodded and handed his co-worker. He did feel a little awkward, since none of them knew that the “shy” Peter Parker was the very same Spider-Man.

He wanted to linger, make sure that they Em to the clinic. This wasn't the first time any of the workers got assaulted, but the Madam usually had her man patrolling the area to keep an eye on her people. This was probably the time they rotated, which was why someone managed to slip past them. She'd probably increase security after the second time this month.

Not everything was perfect, but the Crimson Silk was a place that helped minors in the business. Everyone get regular check-ups, provided protection all the time, got god pays, and the Madam was sure to help anyone to transition out once they wanted to stop or no longer need to continue working for her.

Peter was just glad that he ended up with them.

The bouncer grunted one last time and then disappeared inside the establishment. With Em safe, Spider-Man took that as his cue to web away.

Peter already paid the utility bills for that month, and Aunt May already stocked up on groceries good for the next two weeks. The brunet still went to the grocer to buy enough junk food and energy drinks to accommodate two teenagers. He hid the stash in his room before coming down to eat.

Aunt May made Borscht, potato pancakes, and rye bread. Peter also took that as the opportunity to let his aunt know about his plans.

“Eddie's gonna be here tomorrow. Hanging out, like we used to.” Peter made sure to swallow first before talking, avoiding his aunt's reprimands for proper manners. “At ten, he said.”

“That's wonderful, dear. I'll start whipping up the banana cakes, poor dear must have missed it.” Aunt May paused. “How does lasagne for lunch and beef stew for dinner sound?”

“That sounds great, Aunt May.” Peter grinned at her and then proceeded to wolf down his supper. At some point, he swallowed wrong and then ended up hacking to clear his airways, much to Aunt May's worry. Peter thankfully managed to clear his airways before his aunt could help him.

After finishing eating, Peter did all the dishes and helped with whatever chore Aunt May needed to finish before heading off to his room.

The day so far was pretty good, and Peter was glad that he found Em before anything else happened. He would have preferred that he arrived earlier. Eddie was visiting tomorrow and Peter couldn't wait.

He felt giddy and energetic, grinning happily as he typed away on his laptop in bed. It felt like forever since the last time it was just the two of them. If ever the blond got tired of watching horror film after horror film, Peter's gaming console was still in good condition and the zombie hunting game still worked. It was a pretty solid game, so they'd still enjoy the extreme gore and violence.

Then he thought about the “ _date”_ with James. Frowning, Peter continued to type an essay for his Lit class.

Even if his week was going to be a little nicer than the usual, the brunet couldn't help but think of the impending doom associated with meeting James. He knew that it was bound to bite Peter back in the arse at some point, but he did not expect it to bite him in this way. There was something violating about getting a box associated with Peter's workplace to his personal address, without his knowledge.

Well, James Drake was already pacified with the promise of a meeting. His gift-sending should start cooling off.

Peter made another last-minute clean up with his room, and then went to bed.

He slept soundly that night.

  
  


Peter groaned, the alarm blaring and the display showing 8 in an angry red light. He missed hitting it about three times before the snooze button sounded.

Then he remembered Eddie was coming.

Sleepiness gone, the brunet shot out of bed with an excited grin.

The LED in his room was second-hand, but it worked just fine and whatever slasher film Eddie bought up would be in full gory detail. If ever they ran out of things to watch, Peter had enough games to alleviate the boredom. If they every get bored of playing, well, Peter and Eddie could play catch up.

The teen also got a bunch of futons out, with pillows stacked up like a mini fort right at the foot of his bed.

The teen took to setting up the DVD player and his console in front of the TV before heading down to check on Aunt May. She already had breakfast put up, but was already preparing batters of banana bread.

“Is that chocolate chip?” Peter was practically drooling at the delicious treat. “You're the best, Aunt May.”

“Oh, flatterer.” She was already putting the sticky mixtures into three enormous pans lined with parchment paper and butter. “Go along now. I need to finish up all the food. Ana Watson invited me to this book-signing event! I might be staying over with them if we get home late.”

“Oh,” Peter said. “I'll help –“

“Peter.” Aunt May's voice was mock-serious. “Do you remember the last time you cooked?”

The brunet grinned sheepishly. “I'm not cooking anything! Just helping with the chopping and cleaning...”

“Clean. I know you mean well, but even I can't pull miracles.”

Peter pouted.

He still helped.

It took two hours to finish up with the lasagne and stew. By then, Aunt May already pulled out the bread to cool for later.

By the time the Parkers finished up everything in the kitchen, the doorbell rung.

“I'll get it!” Peter practically bounced to the front door, grinning. He nearly ripped the door at his excitement, and the brunet managed to control his enhanced strength at the last second before opening. “Eddie!”

“Hey, bro. I got popcorn,” the blond greeted. Peter blinked. The older boy was shifting nervously, avoiding eye contact and took to scratching the back of his neck. “Sup? How's Mrs. P?”

“Oh, Eddie. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Aunt May?” She appeared right behind the brunet, smiling fondly at the former athlete. Aunt May had her purse and cellphone with her, checking for a message before turning to Eddie. “And I'm doing fine, thank you. I made banana bread with chocolate chip. I hope it's still your favourite.”

An affectionate grin bloomed at his best friend's face, and Peter realised that the blond looked younger. Softer, with such a light expression. “Yeah, still is. You're the best, Mrs. Par – Aunt May.”

The teen was almost jumping on his feet, ready to pull Eddie inside. The blond looked a little lost at the smaller boy beaming up at him. Eddie had a bewildered smile, but he did seem like he was looking forward to hanging out with Peter.

“Okay boys, I'd be out for a while. Peter, you're in charge of the house. As much as possible, clean up after yourself. Eddie, you could help yourself to the food as much as you want. If the bread isn't enough, there's extra batter in the fridge.” She then kissed both boys in the cheek. “Be good and have fun!”

After giving Eddie and Peter one last embrace, May Parker was off.

All alone, the blond stepped inside, while Peter closed the door behind him. That's when the brunet noticed the backpack.

A bag of popcorn was peeking out, the bag nearly overflowing with what the smaller boy guessed to be DVDs and more junk food.

“Hungry?”

“Nah, ate some stuff. But I still have space for some banana bread.” To prove his point, Eddie grabbed about two slices and almost popped them in his mouth. He made a very satisfied moan. “She's the best.”

They do end up eating some lasagne. This was one of the few times Peter was glad for his spider-enhanced metabolism. They took out the popcorn and bought two trays of bread upstairs.

Eddie had a whole collection of B-rated slashers, some found-footage films, and old classics. The two spent the morning and afternoon pointing out plot-holes and anatomical inaccuracies with varying degrees of rage and amusement. Pointing out the accuracies hurt though, both to their dismay.

By the time they were half-way through the 1998 Psycho adaptation, they were already bored. Peter then turned the player off and turned the console on. Aunt May texted by five that she was going to be late, and it was at seven when the two took a break from blowing zombie brains out to eat. Most of the snacks in Peter's room were gone by then, and the brunet restocked on popcorn and pop after eating the rest of the lasagne and half of the reheated beef stew.

At ten, both boys were an exhausted heap on the futons.

“I missed this,” Peter confessed, almost quietly. He had his knees up, almost hugging them. The window was open and chilly air breezed in. “We've both been busy, and I realised that we haven't been hanging out since forever.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, but he wasn't looking at Peter. He was sitting cross-legged, fingers tapping an even rhythm on the floor. “Between classes and the job at the lab, we don't have plenty of free time.”

The brunet hummed non-committally. Now, time for some catch up.

“So....” Peter started. “I'm sorry for ditching you guys at the party last Friday.”

Whoops, the brunet really didn't want to start with that, and boy was Peter cringing at and cursing his pressure-induced foot-in-mouth tendencies. As far as Peter knew, Eddie only agreed to come to the party because Gwen and Peter were there.

“It's fine,” Eddie muttered. He looked to be contemplating something, and wasn't that something Peter was seeing with Flash these days? “So... you know Johnny Storm.”

The brunet blinked. Of all the things to talk about? Granted, Reed Richards and Sue Storm worked in a different division from Curt Connors, so it shouldn't be surprising that Peter had somehow met the other blond at some point.

He was starting to notice a theme here.

“Yeah, met him at... work,” Peter admitted reluctantly. He knew that Johnny had a reputation at ESU, but it wouldn't be anything to implicate both boys. “He's fun.”

“Right. Fun.”

Peter really had no idea what to say next, and Eddie looked content not to say anything else. So they simply let the awkward silence grow.

The brunet didn't feel that tired just yet, thanks to what amounted to be litres of Red Bull consumed, so he really couldn't force himself to fall asleep to avoid their current conversation. Eddie didn't look tired either, too used to pulling long sleepless nights for projects and school work.

Then Eddie's hand ended up almost underneath the bed frame.

Panicked, Peter shot up, catching the blond's attention. Peter made sure his blankets covered it, but what if the former athlete felt the costume? Or the boxes full of James Drake's tokens of affection?

At least, Eddie's attention was now on Peter. Who was staring at Eddie in open panic.

“I need to put the stew in the fridge! Yeah!” Peter wasn't usually a horrible liar, but it was just plain transparent that he was lying.

Really, it just took less than five minutes to make sure all the leftovers were stored. Peter was just hiding downstairs to avoid the awkwardness.

 _'I'm pathetic,'_ he thought. He was really excited at spending time with Eddie, now that the older boy bought something up he didn't want anyone knowing, Peter was the first to run.

What will Eddie _think_ once he found out the sordid aspect of Peter's life? By the sound of it, the blond didn't think too highly of Johnny Storm, then what would he think of Peter?

Other than a web-slinging vigilante in spandex, Peter was a sex worker. First, it was _illegal_. Second? Peter knew one too many in the business who let their families know and then ended up cut-off or disowned. Third – if Eddie knew, Aunt May _will_ know.

Peter can't let her know.

And Peter just left Eddie alone in his room. Right next to his bed, with all the tools of his trade underneath.

The brunet rushed back to his room, expecting all his things laid out and exposed like a sordid affair. Except Eddie was still right where he left him, except he was texting someone. The blond's attention snapped back at the smaller teen, raising a brow at Peter's dishevelled appearance.

“Oh, hey. Food's in the fridge. How've you been?” Peter winced.

Eddie grinned, amusement dancing in his eyes. He leaned back on the bed, relaxed. “I'm doing cool, bro.”

“Yeah... yeah, that's nice.” Was it too late for Peter to punch himself?

Peter felt like an idiot, fidgeting and shifting from foot to foot at the threshold of his doorway. Really, it was his room, he should get in, but the brunet found himself rooted at the spot, unsure how to proceed.

At least Eddie didn't look as sullen as he did earlier. Well, he would make frustrated expressions whenever his cellphone vibrated and he had to text a reply, but the blond looked relaxed on the whole. It _was_ nice spending time with him, Peter decided.

“You know,” Eddie started, startling the brunet. “You're a junior, and technically, you still have two more years before college unless you pull a me, and manage to get enough credits to graduate early.

“So I keep thinking that if you don't graduate early, you'll have two years of Flash Thompson stuffing you inside your locker, stealing your shoes, or your lunch money. Except, that's not the case any more, is it?” Eddie actually looked wistful.

Peter had no idea what to say to that, so he kept quiet.

“I missed it, back at Midtown. Whenever Flash bothered you, you always come running to me. It's nice. Feeling needed – wanted.” Eddie took a deep breath. “Then you come to the labs with him right behind you. Like he hadn't made your life hell since middle school.”

Peter bit the bottom of his lip, padding to Eddie. Hesitantly, he settled down on the floor, sitting right across his childhood friend. He clenching and unclenching his fists, eyes on the floor, words dying inside his mouth. He knew that the two never did get along, and it was usually Peter that ended up getting the brunt of Flash's frustrations. That is until Peter slapped him in public.

“Do you _like_ him, then?”

Peter's gaze snapped up. He couldn't read Eddie's expression, but there _was_ something intense behind his icy blue eyes. The brunet found himself swallowing, mulling over Eddie's words.

He didn't like Flash. He just tolerated the bigger boy. That was all.

“Well...” Peter began, hesitating. The longer he refused the answer, the more it felt like he was implicating himself.

That and it opened a whole new can of worms.

When Peter first met the Madam, she coached him. Taught him, made sure he knew and practised safe sex. He learned what he liked to do with his own body, what he didn't like. He learned to differentiate between personal relationships and work. Sex and attraction could be mutually exclusive. As far as Peter knew, just because he had sex with men does not mean he was attracted to them. Right?

Then again, the best answer was the truth, and the truth was Peter felt _guilty_.

“I slapped him, after he got my bag.” Peter broke the gaze, feeling the words being dragged out of his mouth. “I panicked, and I slapped him hard enough that it bruised. I just felt like shit. He – I didn't want to spend that much time with him, but Flash won't – I mean, when has he ever left me alone? I just... it doesn't feel right.”

Eddie was quiet. Peter took that as his cue to continue. “I know that he gave me hell, but he's nicer now. I – he still insults me, but he never put a hand on me – okay, he pokes me, but nothing that would hurt. Nothing serious.”

Peter looked up, and the blond looked like he wanted to say something – working his jaw, but the words won't come out. “Bro – Peter. I know that you love Uncle Ben and he's been a great example. But don't you think that you should give yourself a little credit for fighting back? Why should you feel bad for defending yourself?”

 _Because I could have seriously hurt him. I can punch through cement and carry steel beams like they're paperweights._ _I could have_ killed _Flash._ Peter could say those things, it would have cleared up a great many misconceptions, hell, what Flash did would have paled in comparison as to what Peter could do. Instead, Peter didn't answer, mouth pressed in a firm line.

“You could do to be a little more selfish, you know.” Eddie shifted. The teen's head snapped up in surprise when the older boy grabbed his shoulder, firm grip and warm. “Well, if he ever gives you trouble let me know – and if ever Johnny Storm asks you to...”

With practised stillness, Peter asked, “to what?”

“I really don't like talking about other people this way, but Johnny has a... a.... _reputation._ He likes to date other people and then leave them behind in the dust, and I don't want my lil' bro ending up like yesterday's dirty socks once Johnny Storm thinks you're boring.”

“He's not that bad,” Peter defended, jutting his chin up in defiance. “Besides, we're just friends. I just find him... like... weird dating material, is all.”

He _knew_ Johnny. It was just too weird to even think of _dating_ anyone at the Crimson Silk, even if most of them were between sixteen and nineteen. Maybe if he pretended hard enough, Peter might be able to stomach dirty dancing with the older boy, but he just can't picture himself looking at Johnny at a romantic context. It might have something to do with the fact that Johnny coached Peter, and he was just desensitised to the other boy after a month of back-seat sex.

As far as Peter knew when it came to Johnny and dating, he was insecure and anxious about it. The bouts of him breaking up was usually out of fear of his partner finding out exactly what he did for a living.

Eddie did not look reassured of Peter's answer, in fact, he looked far from it. However, he let the matter drop. “If you say so.”

Silent again, Peter sighed. Eddie's hand was still on his shoulder, warm and big. He could feel the other boy's callouses through his clothes, first from football practice, then to writing down reports and the repeated motions of handling lab equipment. The teen could see just how the blond had difficulties with his phone.

Granted, Flash had little to no difficulties tapping away on his, but that was simply because he had a bigger device.

Eddie gave Peter's shoulder one last firm squeeze before letting go.

“How's ESU so far?” Peter asked, and Eddie went into a quick but happy tirade on what has been going on his life so far. It was still his freshman year, and he found it overwhelming to be swamped by so much schoolwork. In turn. From what Peter could gather, Eddie had little to no time with socialising with his classmates, and he bunked alone too. He does meet up with other scientists under Doctor Connors' circle, but it was rarely outside of work.

All in all, Eddie had Peter, Gwen, and the Connors for company.

That just cemented Peter's decision to have Eddie hang out as often as possible, so that he wouldn't be alone all the time.

After discussing school and mutual friends, their topics then moved on to politics. Even if both had the same leanings, they may have had a slight argument about the fifth amendment, but both ended up agreeing that it's for the good of all. After that, they somehow moved on to religion, and Peter was cringing when he told Eddie it was not something he liked talking about.

Half an hour after midnight, both started feeling the crash after a long sugar high. Peter was yawning and Eddie had trouble keeping his eyes open.

Then both teens were just about a foot apart with the lights turned off after Eddie threw an empty can at the switch with startling accuracy. It was still cold, but going under the blankets just felt too hot.

Peter made a sleepy groan. “Night, bro.”

Eddie wasn't answering, so the brunet guessed the older boy probably fell asleep already. Shrugging, brown eyes closed and Peter's breath began to even out and steady.

Maybe Peter was still half asleep then, because he could have sworn Eddie said something before he finally fell asleep.

“Night, Peter.”

  
  


Peter's alarm clock blared, and the teen groaned trying to reach for it. Strange, it sounded farther than the usual, and the brunet really liked his current position. He was very warm and comfortable, even if the pillow beneath him felt like well-sculpted arm.

Peter's thoughts ground into a halt. He opened his eyes to a blurry mess, seeing larger arms around himself and what looked to be the floor covered in futons. Then the memories began flowing back – James, Eddie and hanging out, falling asleep on the floor after talking about school and whatever that came into mind.

_Flash._

The alarm died out after a minute. Peter tried to shift, but Eddie did not stir behind him. Well, it was a very comfortable position.

For as long as Peter knew Eddie, they often ended up spooning whenever they had sleepovers. It always felt like the bigger boy shielded the brunet from the world, a warm cocoon of muscle and affection.

It was a _Monday_ , and if both boys stayed in bed, they'd both be late for school.

Except Peter's drifting off again, and then settled back into Eddie's arms.

Fifteen minutes passed and then Peter's alarm rang one more time, both boys ending up groaning awake. Eddie rolled to his side, one arm still stuck underneath Peter. The brunet sat up, stretching and nose wrinkling at yesterday's clothes still clinging to his skin.

“I think Aunt May still has some of your clothes on my drawer.” Peter shifted to stand, and then proceeded at his shrieking alarm clock to turn it off. He took a sniff, and the smell of freshly baked banana bread and chocolate chip lingered in the air. “I'm going to take a shower.”

“Thanks, Bro.”

Fifteen minutes later of scrubbing his body clean and then brushing his teeth, Peter was out of the bathroom in just his towel and was just carding his fingers through his wet hair. Eddie was sitting on the bed, with a pile of neatly folded clothing and a towel on his lap. The blond was looking at Peter, his expression intense and unreadable.

Peter found himself suddenly self-aware of his own body. The brunet was frozen in place, blue eyes meeting brown. It felt like forever, even if their gazes only held for a minute. The vigilante knew his bruises and scratches healed just fine, but Peter felt like every mark on his skin was there for Eddie to see. He could feel his heart pounding at his chest, the early morning breeze blowing through the window.

In the early morning light, Eddie's eyes were a bright blue, soft like snow.

“Peter, Eddie! Breakfast's ready!” Aunt May's voice floated from downstairs. “You boys will be late for school!”

“We'll be down in a minute!” Peter called back, voice growing weaker for every word.

Then Eddie broke their eye contact and stood up, nudging Peter at the shoulder before closing the bathroom door behind him.

 _'What was that?'_ The brunet could feel his cheeks burn, a strange warmth blooming in his chest.

Peter double-checked his stuff, assured that his costumes were hidden properly, before heading over to his dresser. He was trying to decide between a navy-blue shirt paired with a cream jacket or a gun-metal button-up to go with dark skinny jeans.

The sound of the lamp rattling on his bedside drawer caught Peter's attention. Eddie had his back turned to Peter, and he was trying to keep the lamp from falling, one hand on the shade and the other clutching on the towel that barely covered his front.

 _'Oh,'_ Peter thought with a sinking feeling, eyes following the droplets of water trailing down sun-kissed skin, tracing defined shoulder blades before disappearing under the small of his back. Peter could feel his face burn, heart beating faster than ever.

It was nice knowing something new about himself.

The brunet tried to dress as quick as possible, picking the shirt-jacket combo. The smaller teen kept his eyes away from the blond, but ended up yelping and falling flat on his rear when he had trouble getting his feet out of the legs.

Eddie chortled, jeans unbuttoned and still trying to shimmy into his shirt. Peter levelled him a mock-glare, finally pulling his trousers up and then zipped it. The brunet whooped in victory, jumping up to his feet and then grinned at the former athlete.

The blond rolled his eyes and continued dressing. Peter then pulled his shirt followed by the jacket before rushing past Eddie.

“Race you!”

The two horsed around, trying to pull the other back as they descended the stairs, nearly toppling over. At the landing, Eddie got Peter around his arms, the blond was messing with his hair and his fingers trying to tickle the smaller boy's sides who was trying to bat his hands away.

“Eddie! That's – you're so unfair!”

Peter twisted underneath his hold, hooking a leg around Eddie's larger ones, and then flipped their positions. Eddie overbalanced and both boys found themselves falling over in the floor with a loud 'oomph'. Peter groaned, trying to shift and stand up, but something hard and heavy was right above him.

The two froze, suddenly realising their position.

Peter's left leg was trapped between Eddie's, the older boy's hands at his sides, their faces just a few inches apart.

Peter swallowed, obnoxiously loud in his ears. His heartbeat was drumming up a rhythm under his ribs, their breaths mixing. This close, Peter could see just how blue Eddie's eyes were, the furrow between his brows from sleepless nights of work and studying. The brunet blinked, mouth parting open to speak, but not a single word came out.

Eddie shifted, and both were just painfully aware that the blond was still straddling the younger boy.

“Boys? If you don't have your breakfast now, you'll both be late for school!”

The older teen broke eye contact, face burning, and slowly pushed himself up. Once he's up, he held his hand out for Peter to take, and the brunet grasped it. Eddie was really warm, like he's packed with heat.

The vigilante miscalculated and nearly pulled Eddie back to the floor with him, but the blond managed to pull Peter up just fine. The two awkwardly shuffled inside the kitchen, pointedly avoiding eye contact.

“Is there something wrong?” Aunt May eyed the two, who seated themselves as far as possible. “Did you too fight?”

“No!” Peter shouted too quickly, wincing at how loud his voice was. “Um, er....”

Peter spluttered and bristled, face red and eyes flicking between his aunt and best friend. Eddie looked torn between mortification and amusement, gears spinning behind his head thinking of just what to tell Aunt May.

“It's ok, Peter just got cooties.”

The brunet snorted. “What are you, five?”

Then so began their day, familiar banter filling the air as the two slowly, but surely inched closer as they ate. Small minute adjustments, barely there, but by the time they finished eating, they were just inches apart. When Aunt May took their plates to wash it, Eddie was quick to stand up (chair screeching beneath him) to help.

She batted him off, chuckling in fondness.

“Mrs. Pa – Aunt May, this is the least I can do. After the delicious meals and banana bread. A lady like you deserves to be pampered,” Eddie beamed.

“Oh hush you, I'm not the looker I used to be.” Even then, Eddie took to helping her wash up, and she was grinning the whole time. She packed lunch for both boys, and Eddie glowed with appreciation at the extra bag of banana bread. She gave both boys a peck on the cheek and then sent them off. “Be good!”

“Yes Aunt May!”

“Sure thing Mrs. P!”

Eddie's bike was parked on the Parker residence driveway. The blonde's helmet was strapped on one of the handles, and the extra helmet hung on the seat. Eddie then stored his nearly empty bag on the seat compartment before grabbing the second helmet and then threw it to Peter.

“Midtown High is in the way,” he began, not quite looking at Peter in the eye as he strapped his helmet. “I could take you for a ride.”

Light headed and giddy, Peter acquiesced and put the protective gear on. “Thanks bro.”

Both boys straddled the Ducati, with Eddie in the front and Peter right in the back with his skinny arms around the bigger boy. This close, the brunet could smell the anti-septic and bleach the ESU labs often used to clean up, hidden beneath the scent of Peter's shampoo and soap. It sent a rush right up the teen's spine, his heart beating twice as fast and the familiar yet different warmth settling down in his chest.

Eddie made a strangled sound, his firm muscles rippling under Peter's touch, warmth emanating right beneath his jacket. The blond revved up the engine, purring in response, and then stepped on the ignition.

Then they sped off, nearly a blur of motion in the streets.

Used to free falling and swinging from building to building, Peter was whooping and hollering in excitement as Eddie also took that as a cue to twist and turn in nearly reckless stunts. The teen found himself gripping tight on his best friend, laughing freely as they sped through Queens.

Peter was breathless when they spun to a halt right in front of Midtown, his cheeks flushed and hair mussed under the helmet. Peter had trouble removing the strap, which prompted Eddie to remove it for him. Eddie helped him get down, but Peter still felt light headed and nearly stumbled if not for the bigger teen holding him steady.

So they stood there, in what felt like an eternity, ignorant of the bustling traffic or the mass of teenagers bemoaning returning to classes.

Hesitantly, Peter leaned up, eyes half-lidded and smiling. Eddie's face burned bright red, but he was meeting Peter half-way through.

Peter had kissed countless of people for the past month. There were older folk who no longer felt the same spark or drive in marriage, curious college students who wanted to have sex at _some_ point, lonely people who were looking for a warm body to fuck, and old conservative men with tons of insecurities that just made Peter's head spin. At the end of the day, kissing them meant nothing. It was part of the service they paid for. A business transaction. Professional, fake, and distant.

Kissing Eddie was none of those things.

Their noses bumped, hands fumbling for purchase, lips nearly missing each other.

It was wonderful.

They pulled away, and Eddie was smiling so lopsidedly that Peter just had to laugh at the sight. He put his hands at the side of Eddie's face, caressing him in open affection.

“I really want to do that again,” Eddie said, his pupils dilated and cheeks flushed.

Feeling at top of the world, Peter surged forward for another kiss. This time, he made sure that their heads were angled so they can breathe, with one hand at the back of Eddie's neck to pull him closer and the other on his leg. The blonde's big hands were on the smaller boy's hips, pulling him near flush against his larger body as they kissed.

Peter's tongue shyly flicked at Eddie's lip, asking for entrance, which the blond was too happy to give. The two chased each other, playfully exploring and teasing, the sweet taste of pancakes and maple syrup still lingering inside their mouths.

They were kissing right in front of Midtown's student population, but Peter could barely care. Flash had long laid off teasing him with anything damaging or humiliating, and anyone in Midtown High knew better than to bother a guy who happened to have a boyfriend. Granted, Eddie was older, but the age gap was just two years.

Peter had older.

The two parted at some point, prompting a low groan from Eddie and a needy whine from Peter. With the kiss broken, the two were just laughing breathlessly and panting for air.

“Well, better get to class,” Eddie chuckled. He gave Peter one last peck on the lips before letting the smaller boy go and put both of his hands on the handles of his bike. “Or you'd be late.”

“Gotcha, Eddie.” Peter spun on his heel, a goofy grin on his face. Before the blond could rev up, the teen spun back and stole another kiss from Eddie before running up the steps to the school. He did hear one last 'see you later, Petey!' from the blond before he sped off into the highways.

Peter felt like jumping and free falling, butterflies fluttering in a frenzy inside his stomach.

Before he could get in, his burner phone rang a jaunty tune, letting him know he just got a text message.

It was from James Drake.

_Who's the big blondie in the bike?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh no


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so this is mostly fluff, but i enjoy my fluff nevertheless
> 
> guys! Thank you so much for your continued support/comments/feedbacks/kudos! And I feel great for getting over 1k hits on a work like thank you so much you guys! 
> 
> On another note, a friend made an art for me~ Thank you! :D
> 
> [ Peter ](http://yellow-fin-tuna.tumblr.com/post/162505621165/found-this-awesome-fic) yellow-fin-tuna.tumblr.com
> 
> Srsly, one last thing! That pairing poll - https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/22KTVTR

Peter did not reply.

He thought if his spider senses flared in warning since he and Eddie left the house until the two arrived in school. So far, the only time it prickled at his awareness was during the ride, and it was to warn him if they were going to make too sharp a turn or if there was an oncoming vehicle. Maybe James saw the two on the way?

Honeycomb Productions' office was in Queens, and there were at least a dozen or so sports cars stuck in gridlocks, it might be possible that somehow, James saw him clinging to Eddie while screaming silly to the wind. The other possibility was that the man had been stalking him from leaving home until getting to school, but that just wasn't possible. Peter was nearly dizzy with the blond weaving through traffic like second nature, so it shouldn't be possible to follow them.

The other possibility was that James Drake was in school grounds, and waited for Eddie to leave just to send the brunet a message.

Cold seeped at the teen's spine. First his home, then his work, and now school? The last thing Peter needed was the man to violate his vigilante work. He had no idea what was the man like other than he was making himself out to be Peter's... benefactor. The man would be demanding sexual favour soon, and if Peter couldn't work something out during that time, he'd be in trouble.

Then there was Eddie.

He wasn't going to let a dirty old man ruin this... this... whatever this was. Could it be categorised into a relationship? Was Eddie Peter's boyfriend now? It kind of felt... too soon. They shared a few kisses, wrestled a bit and had the tiniest bit of a sexual awakening when the bigger boy straddled the smaller one. Especially since their talk last Friday at Kenny's party, Peter just felt silly for bringing up dating with the blond, but now... could it have been that the former athlete was giving him a sign?

At the thought of the kiss, Peter felt the butterflies in his stomach flutter.

He didn't thought that he could have something like, like... _this_ when he started high school. He did have a crush on Sally, but he had known in the very back of his mind that she would have said _'no'_. After that, Peter was of the opinion that his dating life would have been abysmal.

Especially after he started working at Crimson Silk.

No one knew what Johnny Storm did for a living, and it seemed to Peter that Eddie's poor impression of him was because of the other blonde's tendency to leave broken hearts in his wake. Which was a relief. Well, not exactly. The other boy was just insecure about his partners finding out what he did to support himself if his older sister did not have enough to cover for both of them.

Peter wouldn't say he suddenly found Eddie attractive, it was always there, now that he thought about it. When they were younger, he had this distant knowledge that Eddie was attractive and it wasn't surprising that girls often threw themselves at him given the chance. He just didn't thought Eddie would like _him_. That sleepover wasn't exactly a ground-breaking realisation– it was a lot like picking up breadcrumbs but he actually went in circles because the ginger bread house was right beside him all this time. The brunet just saw another facet of their already existing friendship and realised the sexual aspect of it.

The two have known each other since childhood, spent hours together bonding over similar interests or playful physical tussles, and Eddie spent a great majority of his time to keep Flash off his back when he could. Hell, the blond was practically a teddy bear, a very protective teddy bear, but a sweet one nevertheless.

Which then pointed Peter to another potential problem.

What if Eddie found out about his triple life? What if things don't work out and other than stop dating, they stop being friends as well? Peter had heard of best friends turning into couples and then back to best friends again, except that wasn't exactly true everywhere. Because Peter wouldn't know what to do if Eddie decided not to rekindle their friendship should things turn bad and they split.

“Peter!” Harry's voice broke Peter out of his reverie, and he spun on his heel to see the redhead running from a limousine with the driver closing the door from the back seat. The other teen had a worried look in his eyes, with a tight grip on his bag that his knuckles were white. “Boy am I glad to see you.”

“What's wrong?” The two began to walk towards the front doors, joining the crowd entering the building.

“I need to get straight As on my tests tomorrow, but I'm still having trouble with the material, and Dad will kill me if I fail.” Harry turned to Peter and grabbed his shoulders, a pleading look on his face. “You have to help me study.”

“Rain check on that one.” Discreetly, Peter checked his burner if he had any clients for the night. There's one today at 11. According to the Madam, a pair of college freshmen from Columbia. “I still have a shift at the labs, but we could ride with Flash to ESU labs or –“

“Can we do at my house? So that dad sees I'm trying to do better. Please? I don't know what to do, or who to ask for help! I don't want to ask Gwen because her dad might think I'm trouble and I'll never be allowed to talk to her again!”

The brunet hesitated and wondered how to manage going to his shift at the labs, tutoring Harry, and then arrive in time at SoHo to entertain a pair of what he hoped to be just experimenting college kids and not a pair of douche bags. The Madam was good at screening clients, but one or two would slip through the cracks and she would improve her standards, which would be bad for business for a while before loosening it a little again.

Oscorp Tower was in Manhattan, and it should take less than an hour for Peter to get to SoHo. Or, Peter could take a day off his lab shift. Things were slow-moving right now, with them scrapping the project. Eddie and Gwen could go over it with Doc Connors before they could start testing again anyway. Besides, Harry's dad was always on his case, the brunet was sure that things will look up once Harry's grades start getting better. He was already popular, technically, by association with Peter who was sort of adopted by Liz?

How did _that_ work out, anyway?

“First off, I doubt that Captain Stacy would stop Gwen from talking to you, I mean, have you seen her give a thug a right hook? Yeah, it wasn't pretty. Second, chill, bro. I'll help you study. Calculus, right?”

“Thanks, buddy!” Harry gave Peter a friendly pat. “You're a life saver.”

“Any time.”

Then the two headed over to their lockers, before making their way to their respective classes.

That morning was pretty uneventful, but Flash's staring grated on Peter's nerves. He was already stressed from James Drake supposedly watching his every move, twice so now because for some reason or the other, Flash's stares were pretty much open. He didn't even bother looking away any more when Peter caught him.

Then there were the whispers.

Peter knew that he kissed Eddie Brock in public, and the jock-cheerleader cliques knew the former quarterback. It was common knowledge that both science kids were friends since elementary, and there _had_ been speculations that they were boyfriends. It just bothered Peter because it's none of their business and he wasn't even _sure_ if Eddie really was his boyfriend. The teen had share plenty of kisses with other people before, but that didn't make him their boyfriend.

Platonic kissing and sex was a thing, Johnny called either Peter or Em for a booty call after a bad break up. The brunet did it once and never did it again, despite promises of food or some research material from Sue Storm before it's presented to ESU labs board.

“Heads up, puny Parker!” Spider senses tingling, Peter held still as Flash purposely missed his aim, football narrowly missing his head. Here came the the football-cheerleader clique, with Gwen in tow chatting with Liz.

“Yes, Flash?” The brunet had no idea if he should smile amusedly at Flash's peeved expression, or frown because after weeks of amiable interactions, he was back to his antics.

They were already seated at the cafeteria, when things took a... bizarre turn.

“Petey!” Liz began, giggling. “Are you really dating Eddie Brock?”

Peter actually had an answer prepared. He was going to smile and say that it was just a kiss, and he was going to talk to Eddie to see where it was going. He was also going to say that he really hoped that he and Eddie were dating, but he was having some apprehensions because he didn't want to lose him as a best friend if ever things end up complicated.

Except.

“Was it hot?” Liz asked.

Which had the brunet sputtering, his face redder than a tomato. Words stuck in his throat, Peter gaped like a fish, and Liz seemed to have taken his silence for a yes.

“He's a nice guy,” Gwen continued, smiling serenely. “Also, did you two... did the thing?”

Gwen made a complicated motion with her hands, and it took Peter a minute to understand what she meant.

“No! We just slept together!” At some point, Peter would have to do something with his foot-in-mouth tendencies. Because Gwen and Liz were giggling like twelve year old girls who were about to meet members of their favourite boy band. “On the same futon! You guys – I meant fell asleep! It was just a guy version of girls' sleepovers!”

Flash's eyes narrowed, he looked like he doubted that Peter was telling the truth. He looked like he wanted to say something, but kept quiet instead.

“You know, I distinctly remember that you two spooned during that time we had to do a project in Harry's house, and we needed someone big to do all the heavy work.” Peter really had no idea that Gwen could grin like a shark. From that day forth, it simply reinforced the idea in his head that she was scary when she wanted to be. “Did you spoon?”

Peter raised a finger to deny it, but they _did_ spoon. The two were almost late from their classes just because of it. Instead, the brunet huffed and crossed his arms, grumbling a reluctant 'yes'.

Still, as much as Peter wanted to hide it, he was very pleased with how things were working out between him and Eddie.

Flash turned into an alarming shade of red.

“Best friends to lovers – ugh, Peter why –“

“No.” Peter frowned, conversations around him ground to a halt. Just how many people were eavesdropping? He took a deep breath, steeling his resolve. “We're still best friends, and well... there were kisses, yes, but I don't want to assume that just because we kissed we're instant boyfriends. I... uh... kinda want to see where this goes and just let things happen. I don't want to lose Eddie as a friend.”

Liz made a cooing sound, eyes bright and clasping her hands together while Gwen made a strangled noise and was fanning herself with a notebook. Liz turned to Gwen. “I can't take this. I think I died.”

“Fan girls.” Peter rolled his eyes and then concentrated on his lunch, strangely serene. He could still feel echoes of his excitement from early morning, a little dampened by James Drake finding out about Eddie, but it wasn't enough to kill it altogether.

He wasn't going to let James Drake ruin this for him.

Most of them were almost finished with their lunches when a flustered Harry arrived, clutching mock test papers and a lunch tray with a pale look.

“You'll do fine,” Peter encouraged, patting Harry as he mechanically ate his lunch. The other teen didn't finish, and they all had to leave when it was just five minutes left before next class.

Things went back to normal, more or less, except for the part that Flash was scowling at Peter's back. The brunet did raise a brow whenever he met the athlete's gaze, but the blond would scowl deeper and then look away deliberately.

“ _Do you_ like _him, then?”_ Eddie's voice echooed back in Peter's head. The teen did not like Flash, just tolerated him. Before that talk, Eddie was under the impression that Peter liked Flash because the smaller boy let the athlete follow him and rode in his car whenever they had to go to the labs. That did not mean like.

Still, Flash had long stopped following the guidelines for bullies, and all the other bullies were too afraid of him to pick up slack. So, where does that put Flash, exactly?

A... reluctant friend? Mutual acquaintance?

Peter shook his head, he could worry about it later. He needed to outline a lesson plan for Harry and make sure he had all the necessary supplies for the session at the Crimson Silk. Well, it would be better if Peter knew what the redhead understood and did not, so that he could improve on the other boy's strengths and then help cover for the areas he needed to improve. He already texted Doc Connors, hoping that if he wasn't allowed to take the day off, he could ask for a shorter shift to help Harry with schoolwork.

Speaking of which, the book he needed was at home, so he'd need to take a quick detour. He could web-sling to save time, though.

Doc Connors gave a quick reply, letting Peter have the day off so he could tutor Harry. His bosses were awesome, Peter decided.

Then the rest of the day slipped by.

  
  


  
  


“I so have to get me some hands free,” Peter muttered as he swung to Harry's house. He was supposed to take the bus, but New York was New York which meant traffic was glacial.

“What?” Eddie's voice crackled through the phone. Spider-Man winced as he nearly his the side of a building.

“No – nothing. Just trying to do too much at once.” Smooth, Peter. Knowing Eddie, he wouldn't pry too much, but really – Peter shouldn't be swinging and calling at the same time.

“Try to relax some time.” The brunet could feel his face burn under the mask. “Wouldn't want you to burn out before college, babe.”

The vigilante's spider sense saved him from missing a web shot to an enormous sign, a goofy grin on his face. He really can't believe that he had something with Eddie now. He'd always have thought they'd be best friends for life or something, but not this.

Which had him thinking back about the potential problems they could face in the long run.

“Babe, still there?” Eddie's voice bought the teen back to the present, and Peter finally landed in a secluded corner about a block away from the Osborn residence.

“Yeah, sorry about that, Eddie.” Heart beating wildly at his chest, Peter swallowed near audibly. “I, yeah, wow. I can't believe we're a thing. We're a thing now, right? I mean, you've been like my best friend since childhood and what if we don't work out and then we'll be awkward exes and we won't hang out any more and –“

“Oooh-kay, slow down Petey.” The blonde's laughter cut through Peter's babbling, effectively shutting him up and calming him down. “We don't have to be a _thing_ right now. We can take it slow, I mean, we're not going anywhere we don't want to, right?”

“Yeah, sure. Let's do that. Take it slow.” Peter took a deep breath, wincing slightly, looking over his shoulder for an expensive sports car cruising close. None so far. “We could talk about it? How about this Wednesday at – wait, no, not at the lab. Doc Connors might kick us out. How about this Thursday after our shift? We could go eat somewhere nice – or watch a movie.”

“Can't do, I have night classes until Thursday.”

“Friday, then?”

“That's perfect, babe.” Peter could hear the grin at Eddie's voice.

“It's a date then.”

There was no answer on the other end, for almost a minute and Peter checked his phone thinking that the call got disconnected. It wasn't, but Eddie wasn't talking either.

“Eddie?” Feeling mischievous, Peter went on. “Baby? Sweetheart? Triple M's star and ESU's number one freshman scientist? Still there?”

“Hey.” Eddie's voice was low, heavy, and disbelieving. “Yeah, it's a date. Friday. We're dating. Oh my god, we're actually dating. Not yet totally exclusive dating, but it's still dating.”

Peter laughed, already changing back to the dark shirt and light jacket. He then began to make his way to the Oscorp building, carefully unstrapping his web-shooters from his wrists. He was making his sweet time getting there, enjoying Eddie's rambling that they have a date this weekend.

“I have to hand it to you, that was smooth,” the blond began after soothing his nerves. “Well, I hear Doc Connors, talk to you later then, babe.”

“Later!” Peter chirped back, giving his school ID at the front desk before heading over to the elevator that will take him directly to the Osborn Penthouse. He locked his phone and pocketed it, stepping through the metal doors and then had to key in a passcode to access the button that will take him to the floor where another elevator would take him to the penthouse.

Three minutes later, he was on a different elevator.

The teen tapped his foot on the marble flooring, trying to identify the upbeat elevator music. Just when the name of the song was right at the tip of his tongue, the lift dinged and the doors slid open, revealing Norman Osborn.

“Peter!” The CEO was smirking. “Good to see you, here to help Harry, huh?”

Smiling nervously, Peter stepped into the penthouse. “We're here to help each other, Mr. O.”

“Now, now, Peter – modesty doesn't become men like us. Smart, driven,” Osborn went on, placing a hand on Peter's shoulder in what passed for him as fatherly affection. “Responsible, self-made.”

Peter held still, resisting the urge to twist and turn away. He kept the fake smile on. “I'm more of a work in progress.”

“At least you're making progress.” Then Osborn's glance turned to the side, and Peter followed it to find a discouraged Harry with his head down. The brunet felt bad for the other teen, having to deal with a father that preferred Peter.

The redhead made his way to his room, and Peter carefully extricated himself from Osborn's grip, following the other boy. When he got there, the swivel chair to Harry's desk was still spinning.

Peter checked his phones, all of his data already used up – and he really should get a better plan or something. Smiling easily, hoping to ease Harry's nerves.

“Mind if I check my email?”

The redhead scoffed, but he did gesture that Peter could use his desktop computer. Harry plopped to the bed, covering his eyes with his arms. Peter sat down on the chair and then pulled up his email quick.

“An e-vite to Midtown High's Fall Formal?” The image had a silhouette of a couple waltzing under streamers and balloons, under their feet was an outline of a basketball court. It was around two weeks before Halloween, at 6pm in Midtown's gymnasium.

“Which would rock, if either of us has, what's the word – uuh, date?” Peter heard Harry shift on the bed, and the other boy now had his hands under his head when the brunet took a quick glance.

Peter was grinning lopsidedly. “I'm going to ask Eddie, actually.”

Harry sat up, his elbows on the bed. “No, really? Since when? And I thought you were, I dunno, bros?”

Peter shifted to face the other teen, a thousand-watt smile on his face. “Well... We _are_ still bros– but we're not really boyfriend-boyfriend? I already talked to Eddie about it, and we're gonna take it slow.”

Harry was frowning, looking up his ceiling. “Huh, so you have a thing for big blond guys with blue eyes?”

Eddie first came into mind, followed unbidden by _Flash._ The brunet suppressed a twitch.

“Nah, he's been there forever, and it felt like a big step forward.” Peter exhaled loudly, stretching a little. “So, who're you gonna ask?”

“I was thinking about asking Gwen. Just as a friend, you know?”

“Yeah, I think she'll come with you.” Peter gave his inbox a quick glance – he doesn't have any more unread messages. He closed the browser and spun on his chair, facing the redhead.

With that, he grabbed his bag and fished out the study guide. Harry eyes it mournfully before taking out his own copy. The brunet slid closer, flipping the textbook open.

“Alright, let's start with chapters one through six....”

  
  


Two hours later, Peter was wiping fake proud tears as Harry made his way through the formulas he was having trouble with. It's taking some time for Harry to finish, but it _was_ progress. The redhead, who had no idea how some of the formulas work, now had an abstract idea how to solve the given problems and take it from there. If things were going this well, Harry would be good to go after another two-hour tutorial.

It was seven pm, and Peter just finished wrapping up the lesson with Harry.

“Thanks, buddy. You're a life saver.” The other teen was grinning, despite his dishevelled hair and graphite smudges on his fingers.

“No prob.” The brunet stretched, a little miffed that his clothes didn't allow much for flexibility. “Okay, that's that. Better crash home.”

And by crash home, Peter meant patrol.

Before Peter could stand up his spider senses rumbled in warning, and then Norman Osborn appeared through Harry's open door.

“Leaving already?” His voice was genial, but it still sent spiders (ha!) skittering up Peter's spine. “Why not have dinner first?”

“Yes, Mr. O, uh... real sorry I can't stay that long for dinner... Aunt May worries, so I best be going....” Peter glanced at Harry who was glaring sullenly at his study guide. Ugh, he did not want to deal with the Osborn family drama right now. He did tell Aunt May that he was helping Harry with his studies, but he needed to patrol for at least an hour before heading over to the Crimson Silk.

Osborn's eyes narrowed for a fraction, and Peter wouldn't have seen it if he wasn't staring head on at the older man. A mild expression crossed the CEO's face, but his eyes were calculating.

The two air was heavy, and Peter could feel droplets of sweat forming at the back of his hands. Peter's heart beat an obnoxious rhythm, out of sync with the long intakes of breath through his nose.

Their stare off ended as soon as it began, with Osborn breaking the gaze as he cleared his throat, stepping to the side. “I see. Send her my... concern, will you?”

“I'll see to it,” the vigilante replied and casually made his way out.

Peter could feel Norman Osborn's eyes burn on his back on the way out.

  
  


The week passed too soon for Peter's liking.

He did ask Eddie out for the Fall Formal, in between breathless kisses and wandering hands. Nothing below the belt just yet, just... feeling each other out, and stealing moments in between work. Peter just wanted to see where this was going, whatever that could happen, he'll let it happen.

Eddie giving Peter a ride to school in the morning became common. Flash still drove Peter, Gwen, and Liz to the labs after school, would stay an hour before leaving back for Midtown for football practise. The brunet guessed that Liz had upgraded from needing to be tutored to pass – to study partner in Gwen's book, or at the very least – a friend with surprisingly far too many common interests. Flash was still the same, but now gave Eddie dirty looks whenever he got within two feet of Peter. At some point, he actually glowered after the former athlete planted a chaste kiss on the smaller teen's temple.

Eddie ignored him blithely, too elated with the fact that he got to steal kisses from Peter whenever he was at arms length away. Both Doctor Connors would cough and give them pointed looks whenever either boy got a little too handsy with expensive equipment nearby. Still, both looked more amused than annoyed if anything.

At home, things were a little awkward for Peter. Aunt May kept insisting that he should visit their neighbour. She did mention that Anna Watson's niece wanted to meet him at some point. Except Peter's schedule was pretty much swamped that week, and he couldn't meet the girl.

Not that he had a lot of grief about it, but Peter did feel guilty about not telling Aunt May _why_ exactly he wasn't too keen on getting a girlfriend. He did say that he was having a sleepover with Eddie and bought extra clothes.

Wednesday that week though, Peter had to deal with a Southern gentleman who got tech he wasn't supposed to have. How did OsCorp even let a piece of high-end technology end up in criminal hands? Peter can only hope this was a one-time thing, and that tech that advanced shouldn't be stolen in the first place. That and Peter was seriously contemplating his life choices when he ended up in the city-wide waste disposal.

When he arrived at the Crimson Silk that midnight – after taking a vigorous shower at home – Em wrinkled her nose and called for the Madam. The Madam was kind enough to let him know that baking soda and tomato juice would have helped, and then gave him an enormous bottle of lavender-scented body wash. Just to be sure, the teen used diluted citrus products, and took a nice long dip in the club's staff-only bath.

Wrinkly, but utterly refreshed from the bath, Em and Johnny both gave him long sniffs to make sure the disgusting smell was gone. Another hour they said, and the Madam already rescheduled all his appointments that night for the next time the clients were available (next week) to properly get rid of the smell. By the end of his shift, Peter smelled like a combination of lemons and fresh flowers.

Later, when it was properly morning, Eddie caught whiff that had the older boy nuzzling his neck just to breathe him in. The day passed in relative ease, except Eddie was practically brimming with excitement.

Then it was Friday afternoon, and Peter couldn't wait for his shift at the ESU to start. The brunet practically flew from his seat when the last bell rung, a different sort of excitement rushing up his chest. True, Peter and Eddie ate out alone before, but it was because they were friends and hanging out.

This was a date.

The context was different, they weren't just hanging out and spend time as friends, but it was to know each other in a romantic setting. It was a whole new aspect neither boy knew about each other, and Peter had yet to explore this kind of territory.

Except... Peter couldn't afford to be completely honest with Eddie.

With a slight sinking feeling, the brunet felt guilty for not letting the blond know about his extracurricular life. Vigilante work wasn't really something he liked to brag about.

He shook his head, he could worry about it later.

Flash looked extra peeved that afternoon, his grip on the steering wheel was tight, and he nearly slammed on the breaks once or twice when Liz and Gwen started grilling Peter on what he planned to do that night. Liz snapped at Flash before he slammed on the breaks a third time, and the blond spent the rest of the ride simmering instead.

When the three arrived, Peter was on the verge of running through the doors, constantly reminding himself that he'd have Eddie all to himself that night.

The same went on like it did for the past two days, with both Connors instructing the three assistants on what to do and writing down whatever progress they had. Gwen would go between running tests and talking with Liz, while Eddie and Peter made sure to brush each other whenever they got close.

Flash kept quiet, but he kept glaring at Eddie like the older teen kicked his puppy. The brunet was offended, because just what was it that Eddie and Peter did to cause such a reaction in Flash?

 _'Does Flash_ like _me?'_ Came the thought, breaking through the focused haze the teen had as he ran tests. He gave the quarterback a quick glance, and then back to the equipment in his hands. That was just absurd. Flash was dating Liz, right?

This was just some new personal vendetta the athlete had. Something to occupy his time since he was bored if he wasn't training with his team. That just wasn't possible. What will Flash like with Puny Parker, anyway? His snarky wit?

Peter shook his head.

He had a date with Eddie Brock Jr., he wasn't going to let a dirty old man or the delusions of a bully having a crush on him distract him from it.

The hour passed and Flash was waving them off, leaving for extra football practise, with Liz in tow. The Latina asked Gwen to get as much detail as possible before skipping away. Then another hour went by and the three teenagers were helping the Connors pack up and store the equipment before heading out.

They all exchanged goodbyes, and then the Connors offered Gwen a ride (she accepted) while Peter and Eddie headed over to where the blonde's motorcycle was parked.

“Any place in mind?” The blond already had his helmet on, and then reached out to help the smaller teen who was still having trouble.

“Well, I was thinking – you've never been to my dorm before. My room mate is at some party at uptown Manhattan, so we have the place all to ourselves.”

Peter grinned at that, both of them now on the motorcycle, and him hooking his arms around the blond's waist. “Sounds fun.”

The ride to Eddie's dorm took about fifteen minutes – his place being about a couple miles away from campus. There was a common area – complete with a kitchenette and living space – and then two doors to bedrooms. There was a set of hooks by the door, and that's where they hanged their bags. The kitchenette table was set with a meal for two people – a bowl of salad, mac n' cheese, and an ice bucket full with an enormous bottle of cider.

“Yeah, sorry it isn't much, but I've saved up so we can eat somewhere nice next time.” The blond scratched the back of his neck, cheeks burning red.

“Nah.” Peter pecked Eddie on the cheek and then strode in, taking in the sights. The TV was turned off, but the laptop connected to it had the display on, and was paused right in the middle of _'Pretty Woman' –_ and that was a little sad and funny. The whole place was clean, but there was some gum under the table and coffee stains on the couch. “If there's anything Aunt May taught me – home made is best made.”

“Here, let me...” Eddie beamed as he helped the smaller teen to one of the seats before settling across. There was a lone partially melted scented candle at the centre, and a smart phone speaker on Eddie's side. The blond had it connected to his phone and then it began to play French Jazz.

The salad was just lettuce, onions, and cherry tomatoes – but the vinaigrette had a spicy tang to it, and Peter was trying to innocently stealing some off from Eddie's plate when he ate all of his share. The former athlete just looked amused as he playfully batted his hand away. The mac n' cheese had turkey bacon, and it just melted right at the tip of Peter's tongue and the saltiness contrasted nicely with the cream.

“I'm keeping you. You take me to school everyday, may as well live in my basement.” The brunet was finished polishing off his meal, and was nursing his second glass of cider. “Or in my bed.”

“When did you become so scandalous?” Eddie had that big goofy smile on and all Peter could think about was what did Eddie see in him exactly. “Well, it will save up on gas taking you to school, but....”

“Too soon?” Peter leaned back, stretching.

It was weird, and moving in this early felt like rushing, and they both wanted to take it slow. Besides, it wasn't like Peter was absolutely and positively ready to tell Eddie each and every one of his secrets. Hell, he had no idea what Eddie actually thought of working boys like him in the first place.

The opening credits for Star Trek started rolling, and the two boys were sitting side by side on the couch, two tubs of ice cream on the coffee table and an enormous bowl of popcorn. The film got all of Peter's attention, and while he ate spoonfuls of ice cream and threw popcorn inside his mouth. Both teen's legs lied right next to each other, the contact was very warm and welcome. At some point, Eddie's arm found itself around his shoulders, and then Peter was relaxing into his side when he changed it to a psychological drama. It was a little different from their usual watch list, and Peter never had thought the blond to like these kinds of film – the former athlete would make a comment or two about the film direction or trivia about how and why it was filmed.

When it ended, Peter could feel Eddie vibrating with excited energy, gesturing excitedly as he explained the symbolism spread throughout the film and how it reflected the plot. The blonde's blue eyes were warm and bright, there was just a hint of a flush on his cheeks, and Peter found himself staring at him in fascination.

There was some ice cream at the corner of Eddie's lips, which reminded Peter that they were out of ice cream and he was still craving for more. As if realising that Peter wasn't making a sound, the blond paused, trying to gauge the other boy's focus. Except, Peter was already leaning in to lick the bit on the corner of his lips.

The brunet swiped his tongue, tasting salt and sweet, his hands gripping on the other boy's shoulders in a firm hold. Eddie groaned, holding on to the smaller boy's hips to pull him close. Peter planted firmly on his lap, Eddie shifted his legs to allow the other teen more space, and Peter responded by giving him a full kiss. Peter winced when his teeth clacked against the blonde's, then his eyes were fluttering shut as Eddie's tongue swiped at his lower lip – asking for permission.

Peter's lips curved into a smile, meeting Eddie half-way, hands going lower and lower down the former athlete's body. A syrupy warmth pooled from Peter's chest going down, every touch and contact felt like honey against his skin. The kiss itself being sweet and playful, just the two of them exploring each other, slow and deliberate. Eddie tasted like ice cream – chocolate and peppermint.

Then they both pulled away, both breathing heavily, a pleasant haze settling in. Peter's hands was already trailing at the blonde's inner thigh, but the older teen grabbed them gently and held it against his firm chest.

“I thought we were going to take this slow?” Eddie's voice was low and heavy, his pupils nearly swallowing the blue of his irises, lips pink and swollen. “I – can we slow down?”

“Yes, yes,” Peter breathed, extricating himself from the other boy's lap. “Sorry, I got into the moment, and well –“

“It's alright. I – yeah. I'm really the one who should be apologising.... Is it okay if we cuddle instead?”” Eddie let go of Peter's hands, and helped the other boy sit down on his side. They were still flush against each other, full of warmth. “It's well, I just want to make sure we – everything's mutual. You're not doing this just to – I mean, you sure you want this?”

“Yes.”

Peter shifted, half of his body draped across Eddie. He had already thought long and hard about this, and he was absolutely sure with what he wanted.

Right?

“So, cuddling.” Peter tucked his head under the blonde's chin, just breathing him in. Eddie was carding his fingers through brown hair, the other hand rubbing gentle circles on the smaller boy's knee. It was nice. “Anything else in mind?”

Eddie didn't say anything, yet. Peter just kept his head right above the other boy's chest, listening to the steady rhythms of his heartbeat. He could feel Eddie's breath fan across his hair, the mint still strong. The autumn air flitted through the window, raising goosebumps across Peter's arms, and one arm was hooked around the blonde's neck and the other laid flat across his stomach. Brown eyes fluttered shut, and Peter's breath was starting to even out when the older teen spoke.

“We're going to have sex, eventually,” Eddie began, but it was more like he was talking to himself. “I don't want sex now, but it is something I see us doing in the future. Well, if you want to. Do you?”

“I'd want to, as long as you do.” The blond made a strangled sound, his throat rumbling deeply.

“Why me?” Peter peered at Eddie through his lashes, and then pushed himself up to plant a quick kiss between his lips, before settling back down across the blonde's chest.

“You're smart, brave, caring, and absolutely passionate about psych horror.” Peter pretended to consider another thing, before continuing in a teasing tone. “That and you're gorgeous. That's a big plus.”

Eddie made another strangled sound.

“I retract my statement, that's actually cute.”

Eddie hid his blushing face behind his hands, albeit with plenty of difficulty. “You're the worst.”

“That hurts, sweetie.”

Eddie stilled, hands dropping down to Peter's back and knee respectively. “So... how would you like to call us?”

“Us?”

“I mean, are we boyfriends now? Best friends to boyfriends? Rad bromance? Partners?” Eddie's voice was serious, and Peter could hear that it was definitely something the other boy put plenty of thought with. “I mean, I wouldn't want us to stop being best friends, but we're not really booty calls either. Boyfriend feels....”

“Too soon?” Peter shifted, pulling away so that he could meet the blonde's gaze. Eddie's blue eyes were bright and clear, and it reminded Peter of clean snow. “Well, I think... we don't have to be anything we don't want to be. We could just be best friends dating. Would you like that?”

Peter bit his lip as the other boy mulled it over. There was a pregnant silence, as Eddie went over their conversation. The former athlete was warm and big, and his sculpted arms made Peter feel... protected. Eventually, the blond broke it, a hesitant smile on his face.

“Yeah, I'd love that.”

  
  


When Peter woke up, he was sore all over. There was a crick on his neck, and all of his limbs were numb. Eddie didn't look any better, his neck would definitely be aching. His toes were first to regain sensation, but it was difficult wriggling them since the two still had their shoes on. The sun was already up, and Peter carefully extricated himself from the blond. He couldn't stop face-planting on the floor.

With a pained groan, Peter pushed himself up to stand up, yawning a little. His mouth felt dry, and Peter was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he got himself a glass of water. He heard Eddie shift, and a quick look confirmed that the other boy was still asleep. He headed over his bag to check if there were any messages on both phones – there's one from Johnny, telling him that Em's complaining about trying to meet a boy, and then there's one from Gwen: asking him how the date went.

 _'Cute. Totally cute. 10/10, will do again. We watched movies and cuddled.'_ It was nice, not having to do anything yet, or be obligated to do anything at all. The sex thing will come in the future, and Peter found that he genuinely enjoyed this kind of intimacy.

There was another message on the burner phone, sent two hours ago – from James Drake.

_'Hope you didn't forget about our date. 10.'_

Peter checked the time. It was 8.

Snapping awake, he shoved the phone back inside his bag, and took a quick peek at a linen-covered package he bought. It was still there, unopened. Sighing in slight relief, Peter turned back to the blond – who was now in the process of trying not to look like the living dead. Sleep still pulled at the former athlete's blue eyes, and he looked like he was trying to rub all remaining traces of it from his face.

“Leaving already?” Eddie managed to say, how he said it coherently was a mystery. “It's alright, I have classes in....”

The blond checked his phone, and then he suddenly snapped awake.

“Five minutes! Shit, Prof W is gonna kill me!” Eddie exploded into motion, running over to the kitchenette to wash his face and then finger-comb his hair. Peter grinned while Eddie fumbled around for his toothbrush and then went on brushing his teeth. That done, the blond gave his clothes a sniff, shrugged and then was about to rush out the door.

“I can give you a ride.” Eddie's cheeks burned pink, a lopsided smile on his face.

“Nah, you'd be late if you don't hurry. I can take the bus.” Before Eddie could protest, Peter went on. “You can walk me downstairs, if you'd like.”

“No. I mean – yes! Yeah, I'd like to walk you downstairs, yeah. Let's do that.” Both boys grabbed their bags and then padded out of the room. The hall was spacious and clean, but there were half a dozen other guys milling about.

The two were standing rather awkwardly, pointedly not looking at each other, cheeks pink. Eddie cleared his throat, looking at their shoes as he held his hand out for Peter to take. A shy smile flitted on Peter's lips, and he gently took the larger hand with his own, fingers intertwining. The contact was warm and soft, and the butterflies took a big dive inside Peter's stomach.

There were a couple of wolf whistles and “nice one Brock!” coming from some of the guys that saw the two held hands. Eddie was too elated to react, and simply took to grinning happily as he and Peter padded down the stairs. The two had similar goofy grins on their faces, vivid blushes bright on their cheeks

The motorcycle was parked close to the entrance, but the bus stop was a block away. Eddie walked Peter all the way. They let go and turned to one another.

“That was an awesome date.” Peter tucked a flyaway lock of hair behind his ear.

“Bet'cha the next one will be better.” Eddie leaned forward to plant a quick kiss on Peter's lips.

“I'm sure it will be.” Peter then pulled Eddie in for a kiss, and then stepped back to let go. “Let's do this again next week?”

“Definitely.” The two just stood there, gazes held. It felt like forever, just looking at Eddie that Saturday morning. There weren't that many cars at this time of the day in this neighbourhood, and the sun was shining cheerily in the bright blue sky.

A bus screeched to a halt right next to the pavement, an impatient driver pulling the doors open. They broke the gaze, and Eddie stole one last kiss before seeing him off.

“Until next time?” Eddie's grin was blinding and boyish, and Peter's heart skipped a beat at how young the other boy looked.

Peter smiled back, heart fluttering and practically vibrating with joy and energy. “Until next time.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on that note, enter james drake on the next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was having some difficulties writing this down, but yeah....
> 
> At some point, I'm really gonna write Eddie with Peter, Flash with Peter, etc... just having some trouble getting there lol.

The Le Macaron was an upscale cafe – with post-modern art, upper class French aesthetics, and an enormous display of pastries. The espresso machine looked old – but still in working order – and there was a shelf full of vintage wines right behind the counter. The colour palette seemed to revolve around black contrasted with pink and gold, and the flowers hanging across the ceiling looked real.

Peter's already dressed into a dark button-up and yesterday's trousers, and he was sitting in a booth while reading a Physics textbook. His bag was nearly bursting, his Spidey suit, the bodice, stilettos, and yesterday's shirt did not fit well with the books and notebooks. At least if there was anything else that he needed, it already fit his pockets.

His spider sense was a constant hum at the back of his head, and it was almost painful that Peter was ignoring it. It then blared in warning, and then James Drake appeared within his periphery. The man was outside the cafe, wearing an expensive suit and designer shades. He strode in like he owned the place, a few heads swivelling to his direction before returning to whatever those people were doing.

Peter shuffled, trying to look as discrete as possible.

James sat across him, grinning. “You're not wearing the glasses?”

“Contacts,” Peter replied. He actually broke it, some time during a scuffle with Marko and O'Hirn. James Drake had no need to know that.

“I see, I see....” James trailed off, and Peter felt a shudder run down his spine at the hungry look the man was giving him. He resisted the urge to pull his hand away when he felt the CEO's calloused ones hold it.

“Calm down, I'm not doing anything yet.” Peter pursed his lips, but he did comply.

“I have a friend, who has a little bit of a problem. He's pretty frustrated, and I was hoping if you help him with it. He pays good money. In fact, to give you a little of an incentive... I can pay you now.” James was rubbing circles behind the brunette's thumb, lazy yet electrifying.

“I...” The teen hesitated. He only agreed meeting James because the man pretty much blackmailed him to be there. He really should have been told the Madam about this first. His spider sense was screaming now, and he had to grit his teeth discreetly. At the corner of his eyes, he thought he saw a yellow and green streak, but it was gone. “Can't I think about this?”

James leaned back on his seat, but still holding on to Peter. The teenager froze when he felt a toe touch his knee, and then began to trail down. “No.”

“ _James,_ ” Peter began, clenching his other hand. A strange calm settled over him when Drake grabbed his other hand. He took a deep breath, and stared at the older man straight in the eye. “What do you want from me, exactly?”

James looked confused, and that just made the teen's hackles rise. “Well, I just wanted to take care of you. Is that bad?”

“You've been following me!” A strange look passed over the older man, and was ready to give him a punch when another wave of calm washed over him. Peter pulled away, and James let him this time around. He scowled.

“True, but I wanted to see why you haven't been texting or calling. After all the gifts and that nice time we spent together, I thought you would have wanted to talk.” James pretended to inspect his nails, his eyes were still on the vigilante. “I never did anything that hurt you, didn't I?”

“You –“

“I what? I've been nothing but generous. I sent money, clothes – all I ask is just some of your time. Is that too much?”

Unbidden, Peter actually felt guilty. He was already earning to buy the nice things Drake was getting him, but he had never returned any of the gifts. He could see how it could have given the man mixed messages. If the man was really stalking him, he would have seen Peter wear the clothes. That doesn't change the fact that James Drake was stalking Peter, though. This was probably one of the times Peter felt horrible for rationalising taking gifts despite his better judgement.

Drake continued on, seeing as Peter wasn't going to talk soon. “If you don't want those pesky lovey-dovey feelings, fine. We could be business partners. I'd pay you for... services. Madam Scarlet should have taught you a thing or two. It's not that bad, is it?”

Peter couldn't see anything wrong with the arrangement, but the sense of wrongness was still there. Other than the blackmail and stalking, it didn't sound bad. Peter shook his head – he should get to the Madam and let her know what's going on. She'll know what to do.

“This is blackmail,” Peter muttered, crossing his arms and then glared at the older male. James chuckled.

“If this _is_ blackmail, I wouldn't bother paying and just have you blow me in my car. Unless, that's how you want things to go?”

The brunet breathed through his nose, can feel red-hot anger pulsing at the back of his head. He was trapped.

He couldn't go to the police because it would mean the police and Child Services – he'd lose Aunt May. Technically, Peter was an escort, but he was still underage, and Aunt May's capacity as a legal guardian would be put to question. He'd lose her.

James Drake was rich and obviously had friends in high places, it would be near impossible to take the man to court. Peter was just glad that the Madam was just lucky enough she had a friend in the force to at least protect everyone that worked for her.

Then there was school. If any of this got out, Peter won't be able to _show_ his face. He'd lose his friends.

He'd lose _Eddie._

“So you're playing pimp.” Peter took a deep breath, his knuckles white and nails digging into his skin. “Are you going to ask for a cut or what?”

“I'm rich.” James flagged a waitress and then asked for macarons and latte for the two of them. “I don't need a cut.”

The brunet raised a brow. Other than sex, there should be something else the older man wanted. “What do you want, then?”

“Pics or videos would be great.” Before Peter could protest, James beat him to it. “For private viewing, of course. You're a stripper and whore already, cam boy would be too much, wouldn't it?”

The teen did not reply. The food arrived, but he didn't touch any of it. James popped two into his mouth.

“By the way, you never did tell me who was the big hunk with the bike. Your –“

“None of your business,” Peter snapped. “Leave him alone. He's not my boyfriend.”

Not in the strict sense of the word, anyway.

James smirked. “Whatever you say.”

The older man checked his expensive Rolex for the time before calling for the wait staff to take-home the leftover macarons and the bill. “It's a Saturday, I am usually a busy man, but for you – I'm willing to make an exception.”

The service was quick and Peter almost sighed in relief when the CEO stood up and then held his hand out for Peter to take. Then his spider sense flared in warning, he instinctively dodged when the older man leaned in for a kiss. He looked amused and simply grabbed Peter by the hair and then crashed their lips together.

If Peter pushed the man off, he would have slammed him onto the other side of the store. So the brunet stayed still and took it, unresponsive to the tongue trying to force its way inside his mouth.

Why wasn't anyone looking in their direction?

Then the teen felt the man brush his thumb at the back of his neck and heat exploded down his spine and into his groin. Desire flooded Peter's veins and he found himself opening his mouth, whimpers and mewls dragged out of his lips. His hands found their way on the CEO's shoulders, pulling the man closer against him, searing heat exploding at the contact. It felt like his very breath was being stolen from his lungs, the older man's tongue exploring and prodding.

Distantly, he realised there was something wrong here.

Then James was pulling away and Peter found himself panting for breath, body yearning for more. He felt light headed and dizzy, adrenaline pumping in his veins. Peter's face was flushed and he felt that his lips were swollen, heat suffusing every inch of his skin.

“Here you go.” Then James Drake was shoving a wad of bills inside Peter's bag, and then the world came crashing down. “Your down payment. Now, let's go.”

The boy can only blink in confusion. What just happened?

James rolled his eyes and pulled Peter by the hand, and the teen found himself following the older man to his car parked right in front of the cafe. Hesitantly, Peter got in and pulled the seatbelt. James got in on next and then started his car.

Swallowing, the teen turned to the older man. “Where are we going?”

“My place. It shouldn't be far.” It took some time to get out of the parking space, but once the car was on the main road, James stepped on the ignition. “You could always swing by whenever you feel like it.”

The drive took less than ten minutes, which had the teen questioning the need for it. Drake's house was literally a block away. It was three stories tall and nearly took up half the block. The first floor was a store front, the glass windows already had Halloween-themed stickers and decorations. Inside was a lobby and a couple of desks, and doors lined up the opposite wall.

James parked the car, and then got out. Peter hesitated, but his hands were tied and he had no other choice but to follow. Reluctantly, he got out next, and James then locked his car. The older man did not enter the office, leading Peter instead to a tiny entryway on the side of the building. There was a set of stairs that led directly to the second floor.

The door looked like reinforced stainless steel, it had five dead bolts, a keypad, and biometric locks. Paranoid much?

A minute later, they were inside.

The floorboards were polished to a reflective shine, the blinds looked automated, the walls were painted in pastel with a framed picture or two for every three feet, and all of the lights were turned on. Nothing separated the different areas; the kitchen was close to the entrance, with counters with a marble finish and an island with stainless steel instead – it reminded Peter of a dissecting table. The living area was a foot lower, with three couches around a coffee table and an enormous entertainment system at the other end. There was a dining table on a raised platform, with four chairs pushed into it; Peter could see two sets for a dinner for two, but there was no food.

There was a spiral staircase leading to a trapdoor to the ceiling, but it's open and Peter could see orange light flitting through it. On the other end was an open door that led to a spacious bathroom with a hot tub.

“Change to the bodice, will you?” James grinned lasciviously, and Peter didn't bother to hide his glare. He clutched the straps of his bag tighter before walking briskly towards the bathroom.

The teen slammed it shut, and he felt the whole place shake with the strength. Maybe a little show of power might scare James off.

First thing was cleaning himself off. James had a retractable shower, so Peter can only just thank his lucky stars for its existence. The teen made sure to relieve himself and cleaned up as much as possible before stripping. Then came the hard part.

It took half an hour to change, he wasn't used to getting into the bodice and garter belt on his own. At the Crimson Silk, they all helped each other get into outfits so that they could get out faster. The bodice had to be tightened enough to touch each other, and it felt like the one James got for him was a lot smaller than his actual size. Two inches of skin were showing between the lace, and that just disappointed Peter. All of the... costumes at the strip bar were tailored to fit just right, as long as everyone kept their figures more or less the same. The only consolation was the stilettos fit.

Still, this made him suspicious.

Peter knew that James knew his sizes, so why was the bodice smaller than it should be?

The teen shook his head. That wasn't something he should concern himself with. What he should concern himself with was how to get out.

It was hard to fight a man like James Drake in court, but if Peter could get some sort of evidence without implicating himself – that would be very nice. Pictures, video, or any sort of media the man was sure to take of him now would count as child pornography, but it would feature Peter Parker. If he could access the older man's computer, though, he _might_ get something. It doesn't feel like Peter was the first, nor was he the last.

The problem would be, he would technically be possibly ruining someone's social life instead.

James Drake _had_ to have some criminal activity.

The businessman knocked on the bathroom door, his voice patient. “Do you want me to help you up.”

“I can do this on my own,” Peter replied, huffing and then stuffed his clothes inside his bag.

He didn't have a make-up kit with him, but he'd rather not put himself through any more humiliation. He washed his face instead and then stepped out.

James looked like he was pacing and then stepped stopped, foot still in mid-air and his gaze openly hungry. He already had his shirt unbuttoned, but kept the trousers buttoned – strangely enough. The teen kept his expression blank, carefully avoiding the older man's eyes. James padded over to him, and then towered over Peter now that they were only a scant few feet apart.

“I'd say we do this in the bedroom, but those heels might kill your feet.”

Peter dropped his bag right next to the bathroom door, and then followed the older man to the couch. They both plopped down on the plush seats, almost sinking at the softness.

“So, you had me dress like this so I can undress again?” The teen raised a brow, making sure that his legs were closed together.

“Nah, I like looking at it.” To prove his point, James put his hand on Peter's knee, caressing the expensive material. The teen breathed sharply, the older man's hand trailing up and into his inner thigh. The older man's fingers digging on the soft flesh, nails scratching through the cloth and skin bruising under James' grip.

Peter could feel his heart beating hard and fast, his breathing becoming shorter and shorter as James finally gripped him through the silky underwear. The brunet tried not to arch into the touch as heat climbed up his spine. James slipped his hand inside the teen's underwear, and began to stroke. Peter's nails dug into his palms, whimpers escaping his lips. Brown eyes fluttered shut, and a loud moan managed to drag itself out of his mouth.

“That's a good boy,” James murmured, pulling the lithe body against his, heat blooming at the contact. The older man unclipped the elastic around Peter's waist with his free hand, loosening the garter belt, and then dragged the garment down to the teen's thighs.

James pulled his hand away, and Peter whimpered at the loss of contact. He felt shame burn down his face, and he turned his head away as the older man manoeuvred their positions. The teen was now straddling James, his knees around the man's waist, and Peter had to grip onto the businessman's shoulders to keep himself steady.

Peter opened his mouth to protest when he felt a hand on his arse, but James swallowed his words with a forceful kiss. Peter pulled away to breathe, hair mussed and eyes dark. The brunet keened as deft hands proceeded to explore and touch him, it was getting hard to control his strength and break James' sternum.

Something cold and distant thought the man would have deserved it.

A finger prodded the teen's entrance and then he stiffened, shoulders taut and every line tense. Peter could feel each breath becoming shallower and shallower, but James put his other hand on his shoulder and the teen felt himself calm down.

“I won't hurt you,” James assured with a pleased grin. His grey eyes were just a thin circle engulfed in black, and red stained his cheeks. “Blow me.”

Swallowing, Peter shifted and stood right in front of the CEO. The man sagged on the couch, a painfully obvious tent on his trousers. The brunet knelt with practised ease, and then unbuttoned James. He pulled the zip next, and pulled the garment down quickly. Like the last time, the older man wasn't wearing anything underneath.

The teen kept his distaste from showing, and simply bowed his head down to avoid meeting James's gaze. James was hard, his manhood fully erect and dripping with pre cum. Peter moved closer, and opened his mouth. He engulfed James as his eyes fluttered shut, blocking out the older man and mentally superimposed him with the face of a common client. Peter could distance himself enough to take his mind out of the experience. It was just sex. Nothing more.

He gave the head a few experimental licks, making sure to trace the vein and swirl his tongue over it. When James gasped and bucked his hips against Peter, the teen repeated the motion that garnered the reaction. The older man proceeded to thrust into Peter's mouth, his nails digging into the teen's hair.

Peter could feel James' pleasure increase, every line on the older man's body taut and tense, and just before the teen could push him off the edge – James gripped his hair and then pulled him away, a string of saliva and pre-cum trailed.

“Condom and lube's on my breast pocket.” James held Peter by the shoulders, nails digging on his pale skin. The teen climbed back up on his lap, retrieved a packet and a tiny squeeze bottle and uncapped it. Peter ripped the top off with his teeth and slid the rubber over James, the latex rolling over smoothly over his engorged dick. The teen then emptied the bottle on his hand and then pressed his palm on the older man, who shuddered and jerked at his touch.

Peter's fingers curled around the shift, gripping firmly, and then slowly began to stroke up and down, coating the erection in lube. It was just a prelude to what they were to do next, so Peter took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.

He wasn't sure if he bottomed any time within that week, so he decided to take the safer option of lubing himself first. There was still enough on his fingers, so he inserted one at his entrance, breathing sharply. Technically, it was his own finger, but Peter still found himself hesitating.

Slowly, Peter pushed in, toes curling as he went in deeper. The teen let out a loud gasp when he went in a little too fast, the sensation a little alien and uncomfortable. Taking a deep calming breath, Peter didn't move an inch until he felt the tight ring of muscle relax around his index finger. Gently, he prodded and probed, his free hand now on James' shoulder to hold on tight.

Peter then slid in another finger, a long shudder running up his spine, and just held still for a minute. When the teen felt himself adjusting from the second intrusion, he took another deep breath and hooked his fingers up just right where he knew his prostate would be.

It took at least three sessions for one of his clients to find it, and enough alone time in the bathroom to feel for it again.

Peter pulled out his fingers, ignoring the sudden sense of emptiness, and then positioned himself right above James' throbbing cock. He gave another jerk with his other hand, and then slid in slowly, easing himself into the engorged length.

James grunted and then pulled Peter into a long open-mouthed kiss. He still tasted of cigarette smoke and mint, a hint of something like citrus hitting the teen at the back of his throat that he was moaning in James's mouth.

Then the older man rolled his hips and swallowed the cries trying to make itself out of Peter's mouth. His pace was _punishing_ , thrusting into Peter in hard and quick. A hazy wave of pleasure interspersed with pain crashed over the boy, white-hot pleasure flashing behind his eyes as James fucked him.

The older man couldn't hit the bundle of nerves that had starlight bursting across Peter's eyes, but the thrusting and intrusion was enough to send waves of heat racing up and down on every inch of skin. The sensation of being filled to the brim was enough for Peter. Skin slapped on skin, sweat beading down on their exposed bodies, and incoherent moaning filled the air. The brunet just had enough strength to match the older man's pace, and both could feel one another's building pleasure.

Then James roared, and Peter can feel something swell deep inside him, tight and hot and absolutely filthy. The older man rode out his pleasure, still thrusting into the smaller body until he emptied his load. Peter was nearing his climax, and after a particularly powerful thrust from James had him gone blank.

Peter came with a cry, his sticky load splattered across James's chest. James wasn't touching Peter, but the teen somehow managed to ride out his climax until he himself was emptied.

Both of them were panting, and James looked utterly exhausted. Peter could feel his own adrenaline crashing down, but he didn't feel as tired as he imagined the older man was. The CEO's gaze was half-lidded and glassy with sleepiness, his expression was of utter satisfaction.

Slowly, Peter extricated himself, pausing when he began to feel some unease he tried to slide out. Soon enough, the brunet was off and pulled up the garter belt.

“Money's on the kitchen, third drawer to the left,” James managed to slur, eyes already falling shut. Peter didn't say anything, and simply headed to the bathroom as quietly as possible after grabbing his bag.

The shower was long and cold, and Peter just felt raw. A distant part of him was sorely tempted to grab all the cash within the older man's apartment, but that was just stealing. Even if he was blackmailed, this was still a job.

An hour later, James was still asleep and Peter did find the cash as promised. He was quick to leave the apartment, wearing new clothing as he walked the way home. It wasn't even _that_ far.

Peter made sure to text Eddie that he's still taking a few more things before getting home, like a quick detour to pay bills and his part-time job at some random advertising firm. He was sorely berating himself for not texting him earlier than he should.

_'K, tk care. :X'_

Peter found himself smiling at the text. Then the guilt of lying to Eddie came next.

Well, things just got a lot more complicated than they should be. On top of school work, the ESU internship, the job at the Crimson Silk, and vigilante-patrol – Peter now had to entertain a dirty old man with a thing for teenagers. Something had to give at some point.

Then, there was spending time with Aunt May, tutoring Harry, and taking things slow with Eddie.

At this rate, he'd only be having two hours of sleep every day.

Peter could cut some time with patrol, he already had a modified police scanner and his spider senses in case something came up. The Madam wasn't particularly demanding as long as she's updated with his current situation and she's supportive with anyone who wanted to make a quick and safe exit from sex work. Considering that their current financial situation prompted Peter to work for her, quitting wouldn't be a good idea for now. Besides, she had students in her employ. As far as he knew, Em was still in high school too.

Peter could try stop tutoring Harry, but the other boy was already in so much pressure from his own father and it just felt wrong leaving the redhead on his own. No matter how creepy Peter found the man to be.

Quitting the ESU internship was a big no, too.

So it was just cutting patrol work. It shouldn't be too bad, since working hours at the Crimson Silk was flexible, and the Madam made sure that no one's schedule conflicted with school or anything else. Honestly, the brunet was just glad and lucky enough that someone pointed him to her.

Spider senses blaring out in alarm, Peter saw a convertible screeching on its brakes as it narrowly avoided slamming to car in front of it. The black paint job and lightning bolt design had something cold sinking in Peter's gut.

His house was just two blocks away.

The door opened, and Peter can only stare at his front door in panic.

“Get in, we need to talk.”

Flash.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Want to talk to me in DMs? Come join this lil server I made for SpiderVenom fans!
> 
> https://discord.gg/z4X5vk8


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